(no subject)
Dec. 7th, 2006 11:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolHello, my name is Colleen and I think I'm addicted to cleaning.
I have not stopped running around ALL DAY. Well, that's not quite true - I went For Lunch with Katie for an hour, but other than that, I have been REALLY NON STOP BUSY from 7am-8pm. I have done productive things, including putting in a request for Dr Evans to wear a Madame Bovary costume for the recap lectures next weel, injured my fingers further at work probably, actually met my tutee who is nice, if a little shy and probably hating my existence. I requested gluten-free cakes at DocSoc. (I think they said 'yes' out of feeling really sorry for me.) I turned up to a lecture involving the words '... herd of $10,000 educated goats!'
Needless to say, I'm a little tired when I finally got through the door at 8.30pm. I went into the kitchen and it looked as though a bomb had hit it. Dirty plates and bowls from two evening meals (both of which I have not been present for) and all the other stuff that accumulates as well as a weeks worth of the crap of six people.
To be fair, people are out and busy and stuff. I could just do it.
But I have broken fingers. I can't wash up. In between the bandaging strapping the buggars up, I can't actually grasp stuff in my left hand without a fairly large amount of physical pain.
Simon is turning up tomorrow, though. Simon of the LOW IMMUNE SYSTEM.
Broken finger!
PNEUMONIA BITCH.
...
I just cleaned the kitchen. I did ALL the washing up. I wiped and sorted out all the surfaces. I brushed, and mopped, the floor. I wiped the walls, and the bin, and the fridge, and the microwave. Then, because I was on a roll, I did the same thing to the bathroom and the hallway, before blasting my room.
I am swaying a bit with exhaustion and my broken finger is going that funny purple colour again (to be fair, the swelling up of the painful ones started at work this morning) so I think I am going to go to bed where it is comfy. Yes.
Someone remind me that tomorrow I still have to do the hoovering and sort out the bedsheets. I would do it tonight, but I've sat down and I've sort of hit this brick wall where I'm genuinely swaying a bit. I do wish this productivity would attach itself to my essay-writing.
Shit I think I just turned into my mother. If you find me in a mid-life crisis in about 20 years why, YOU KNOW WHY.
Eehee Simon will be here in like THIRTEEN HOURS. So I will sleep now. Yes.
I have not stopped running around ALL DAY. Well, that's not quite true - I went For Lunch with Katie for an hour, but other than that, I have been REALLY NON STOP BUSY from 7am-8pm. I have done productive things, including putting in a request for Dr Evans to wear a Madame Bovary costume for the recap lectures next weel, injured my fingers further at work probably, actually met my tutee who is nice, if a little shy and probably hating my existence. I requested gluten-free cakes at DocSoc. (I think they said 'yes' out of feeling really sorry for me.) I turned up to a lecture involving the words '... herd of $10,000 educated goats!'
Needless to say, I'm a little tired when I finally got through the door at 8.30pm. I went into the kitchen and it looked as though a bomb had hit it. Dirty plates and bowls from two evening meals (both of which I have not been present for) and all the other stuff that accumulates as well as a weeks worth of the crap of six people.
To be fair, people are out and busy and stuff. I could just do it.
But I have broken fingers. I can't wash up. In between the bandaging strapping the buggars up, I can't actually grasp stuff in my left hand without a fairly large amount of physical pain.
Simon is turning up tomorrow, though. Simon of the LOW IMMUNE SYSTEM.
Broken finger!
PNEUMONIA BITCH.
...
I just cleaned the kitchen. I did ALL the washing up. I wiped and sorted out all the surfaces. I brushed, and mopped, the floor. I wiped the walls, and the bin, and the fridge, and the microwave. Then, because I was on a roll, I did the same thing to the bathroom and the hallway, before blasting my room.
I am swaying a bit with exhaustion and my broken finger is going that funny purple colour again (to be fair, the swelling up of the painful ones started at work this morning) so I think I am going to go to bed where it is comfy. Yes.
Someone remind me that tomorrow I still have to do the hoovering and sort out the bedsheets. I would do it tonight, but I've sat down and I've sort of hit this brick wall where I'm genuinely swaying a bit. I do wish this productivity would attach itself to my essay-writing.
Shit I think I just turned into my mother. If you find me in a mid-life crisis in about 20 years why, YOU KNOW WHY.
Eehee Simon will be here in like THIRTEEN HOURS. So I will sleep now. Yes.
