Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Good for Nothing
I don't know what is wrong with me lately, but I'm just good for nothing when I get home from work. I have all the best intentions of getting all these tasks done, but pretty much all I can muster is driving home, walking Sammy, and getting dinner. After those three things are done, I'm ready for bed. What is wrong with me? When did I turn 80? And why is my room not cleaning itself? I can't stand it anymore. I want to scream every single time I walk into it. I actually started to pick it up this weekend (shocking, I know), but got so frustrated by the lack of anything looking better after putting some stuff away that I gave up. I don't know how to get all the clutter out of it before I can organize it to get it back in. I crinkle my nose and wave my arms, but the crap doesn't float away on its own. I don't understand. Aren't I magical?