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I Hate Cleaning the House
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Dusting books.
Wiping down knickknacks.
Filing papers away.
Vacuuming the carpet.
Scrubbing the toilets.
Ditto the sinks.
Mopping the floors.
Washing dishes.
Cleaning out the refrigerator.
Picking up dirty laundry and washing it.
Cleaning dog's water and food dishes.
And on and on and on.
And next week they'll have to be done all over again.

The only time there was really a break was the 3-week period the LM was in the hospital. When I got home, the house was just about the way I had left it, except for a bit more dust and a little more dog hair.

Now, I dread walking in the front door. Dirty dishes, dirty laundry, opened bills, pens, glasses, and things I don't want to look at too closely all in a jumble.

They say you should plan for retirement. Well, I plan to buy myself a high pressure hose and schedule a contractor to install a large circular drain in the side yard.

Then, hose in hand, I'll just blast it all as I'm coming in the front door, through the hallway and down the middle of the livingroom and out the side door, swirling detritus down the drain to the sewer.

Sounds like a plan to me.

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