Try It Again

I keep trying to write, and then I get distracted and do something else. I think I tried five times before I even got one sentence down but got distracted again. I can't seem to get it together today. There's just something about being here at home that overcomes me with stagnation.

The dishes from last night aren't done. I fully intended to do them after John's parents left. I even had the sink full of soapy water, but I didn't do them. I didn't load the dishwasher with anything either. I barely got the leftovers put away, and that was only thanks to those Saran bowl covers that look like little shower caps for dishes. (Those things are absolutely fantastic, by the way.) That's the only thing that got done though. I didn't pick up the ripped up wrapping paper or empty boxes or million little twist ties that are bound around every limb and hair of the dolls we bought for Booie. I didn't put the beer bottles in the recycling bag. I didn't even take them into the kitchen. I didn't throw away caps. I didn't cover the cake. I was a lazy bum who watched a waste-of-time movie last night instead of doing my job.

Today, I got up with the dog at eight and felt pretty good if not a dab tired. So what do I do? Crawl back in bed because Booie isn't up yet. I didn't get up until the fourth phone call (only one of which I answered) that waked Boo. If I remember correctly, it was after ten. I have done nothing but drink coffee, read email and play with Booie's toys since that time. That's good for Booie, but it's not good for the state of my house.

It is vital I not let the house go to pot of my own accord. You see, John busted his ass cleaning this place for me while I was gone. I left it a veritable pit when I went to Nebraska in my last-minute flurry to get things done that I could have finished the whole previous week but didn't. He not only did dishes but cleaned the crusty stove, washed the tablecloth, decluttered the entire living room and dining room, and weeded things out of the bedroom. It was looking pretty nice until yesterday. One of my biggest complaints about cleaning is it never stays that way. The family always pigs it up but doesn't pick up after themselves, leaving me to do it. It wouldn't do a lot for my cause if I do the same when someone else cleans, so I must clean today. It really isn't that much, because it was clean to start, but my state of laziness is a much bigger hurdle than can be imagined.

My other self-assigned task for the day is to weed the flowerbeds. John did a fabulous job of watering my plants, if not too fabulous. Some of them are a little waterlogged. He wasn't instructed to weed, and I really didn't expect him to anyway. He wouldn't known a weed from a flower, so I could have come home to flowerbeds full of nothing but clean dirt had I asked him to weed them. That allowed the little buggers two weeks of unchecked growth. Some are taller than Booie. Many have gone to seed, sending out more work for future weeks. Despite my inclination to go out with a vat of Roundup, I will do the more environmentally friendly thing and pull them out by hand. It can't be much worse than picking the nasty green worms off my yellow rose.

The yellow rose finally decided to flower this year after two years of nothing. It's in a terrible location, chosen by the previous inhabitants of the house. The poor plant is plagued by bugs, powdery mildew, and black spot. It gets drenched and stands in water whenever it rains, doesn't get enough sun, and shares space with an azalea bush also planted by said occupants. I'm surprised it's flowering at all. I plan to relocate it but haven't been motivated to prepare a suitable spot for it elsewhere. If I can't pick up beer bottles, digging a big hole and amending soil is probably not going to happen too soon. The poor rose will have to tough it out a few weeks longer until after all our upcoming visitors have gone.

I have many other plants that need moved or just stuck in the ground. None of that is going to happen today. I'm just going to get rid of the jungle of weeds. It's really all I can expect of myself on a day like this.

I think I need to dig out the Feng Shui books and rearrange my house. I'm probably flushing all my chi down the toilet or something. Or maybe it's just the killer black mold lurking in my walls. Or maybe I'm just looking for excuses about why I'm such a lazy slob. It's just I'm not this way elsewhere, only at home. So I'm going to blame it on the house. It's the house's fault.