(In my defense, after being told yesterday that I am so anemic as to warrant bed rest [ocd death sentence], I was told today that I have a potentially fatal blood disorder which could prohibit the surgery as well as require lots of other expensive, painful, and burdensome bullshit that I was determined not to let interfere with my cleaning. This is my success story.)
This is honest to god the most dishes I have ever had, including when I've hosted Thanksgiving dinner. I wanted to drop dead but who could die amidst such indignity?
Counter top strewn with miscellaneous kid-related bullshit (shudder!)
Frou-frou bath mats are a wonderful luxury except they take ten days to air dry:
This was a wake-up call. I am one slack away from grabbing this rack and becoming a bag lady. An albeit, a well-dressed, half wet/half dry bag lady:
Quick stop for some blood letting, just to make it that much more fun to tackle these catastrophes (Reilly always has a camera.):
"Let me at those dishes let me at those dishes!"
TRIUMPH! (Now I can die with some pride.)
Some order restored to the world:
Looks better, just smoke and mirrors, I moved them, but still, out of sight...
Hmmm...victory, or naked bag lady?
So I didn't get out the toothbrush today but I got my must-do areas clean so that my brain can have a modicum of peace while I'm on bed rest, and was able to provide one more vial full of that blood I'm starting to miss. What does FlyLady say about sick kids and sick moms? That's what I thought. We do what it takes.