janradder: (Default)
Washing machines do.
janradder: (frustrated)
I hate when I do a load of laundry and then forget about it in the washing machine where it sits and molders for about a week or so until the next time I need to do laundry.  It literally smells like something died in that machine.
janradder: (scared)
I may be challenging the very laws of physics and nature and shredding holes within the fabric of space, but I am attempting what was until now, considered the impossible.  I am returning all of the boys' toys to their room.
janradder: (crying)
Yes, it is an occasion to cry.  I do it whenever their toys have become so mixed up and dismantled that it is next to impossible for it all to fit where it once did.  Each time, I am amazed at how much plastic crap they've accumulated -- little tiny pieces of plastic crap that come from lord knows where that have no home except the boxes and bins in Arie and Eiden's room.  As I clean and sort, sneezing on the dust and pet hair collected in the months since the last cleaning, I surreptitiously toss the crap that I know they no longer play with (but which would be met with obscene protest were they to realize I am discarding that which they otherwise wouldn't notice) and try to box away stuff that they no longer play with but which some other, younger kid might enjoy.  Every time I start this project I think to myself, "what the hell did I start this for?" and I feel like it will never be completed.  Looking at the work ahead, I think it's going  to be a two or three day project this time.
janradder: (crying)
I'm bored.  I have a pile of laundry waiting to be washed.  Both bathrooms are filthy and need to be cleaned.  The cat boxes need to be emptied and refilled with fresh litter.  The check book needs balancing and the bills need paying.  I still have not done the morning dishes and there is clutter all over the house which I still have yet to pick up and find a place for.  All three beds in the house need to be changed and made and I still haven't brought the futon cover which Éiden threw up on into the dry cleaners.  The boy's room is slowly but steadily becoming another junk pile and the front porch still has the detritus of winter lying about waiting to be returned to the garage.  Éiden is finished with lunch and wants us to take the car to be washed but it looks as if it will rain any second.  I'm sure I could find at least a dozen more  complaints/jobs not done if I really thought about it.  What I really want to do is take a nap but what I will instead do is tackle the damn, disgusting cat boxes so that the cats don't decide to exact retribution in the laundry. BLAAAAHHHH!

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janradder

March 2012

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