Real life is what happens...
When you're making plans. Or words to that effect.
I planned so much this week. I planned to do my housework on Monday, to work any two days of Tuesday to Thursday and to pack for a short break on Friday. It's Tuesday (only) and already my plans lie, tattered and in ruins on my memory. Yesterday, I was shakey and shivery and slept 3 out of 5 child-free hours (Is this a record? No, my record is all 5 child-free hours and a couple of child-minding ones before my DH sent me to bed without tea. Not a good day, that one.) So, bang goes the housework. Never mind, I have today to do it and then I can work Wednesday and Thursday.
OK, so Borders was a treat for me... a pick-me-up, but I deserved it. And I did get the Romantic Homes magazine featuring one of my favourite bloggers, Alicia. Then I did need my hair cutting. And once hair is cut, you can see all your grey hairs so colouring it was a necessity. And then I could do my housework. I'd love to call it 'Home blessing' like the flylady does, but I just cannot bring myself to think that my attitude has reached the zen-ness needed to think of it as a blessing, either for me, the house or the kids... The kids! Must remember to pick them up, and then.... Ding Dong. No, not the Avon Lady, but the plumber, here to look at the shower that threatens to fall through the ceiling onto the hall below. He looks, says he'll be back tomorrow, it's a whole day job, he hopes, although it may take two.. and as he passes by me on the way to the bookies (our plumber never works between the hours of 3 and 5 and I reckon he goes to watch the horses somewhere everyday) I realise what he has said. No work for me this week, then. Eh bien, I shrug my shoulders as gallically as a girl of Irish descent can and pass into my living room to clear the detritus of the weekend, still lying there since clearing and cleaning are not part of the familial genetic make up and only part of mine after a transfer of DNA from Anthea. I now have two or three free days to complete my house work. The race is off, and the battle has been won by the forces of frugality. I will clean my house this week instead of charming my bank manager. I plan to spend tomorrow in my craft room organising my stuff.... but we'll see what the morning brings, eh?
I planned so much this week. I planned to do my housework on Monday, to work any two days of Tuesday to Thursday and to pack for a short break on Friday. It's Tuesday (only) and already my plans lie, tattered and in ruins on my memory. Yesterday, I was shakey and shivery and slept 3 out of 5 child-free hours (Is this a record? No, my record is all 5 child-free hours and a couple of child-minding ones before my DH sent me to bed without tea. Not a good day, that one.) So, bang goes the housework. Never mind, I have today to do it and then I can work Wednesday and Thursday.
OK, so Borders was a treat for me... a pick-me-up, but I deserved it. And I did get the Romantic Homes magazine featuring one of my favourite bloggers, Alicia. Then I did need my hair cutting. And once hair is cut, you can see all your grey hairs so colouring it was a necessity. And then I could do my housework. I'd love to call it 'Home blessing' like the flylady does, but I just cannot bring myself to think that my attitude has reached the zen-ness needed to think of it as a blessing, either for me, the house or the kids... The kids! Must remember to pick them up, and then.... Ding Dong. No, not the Avon Lady, but the plumber, here to look at the shower that threatens to fall through the ceiling onto the hall below. He looks, says he'll be back tomorrow, it's a whole day job, he hopes, although it may take two.. and as he passes by me on the way to the bookies (our plumber never works between the hours of 3 and 5 and I reckon he goes to watch the horses somewhere everyday) I realise what he has said. No work for me this week, then. Eh bien, I shrug my shoulders as gallically as a girl of Irish descent can and pass into my living room to clear the detritus of the weekend, still lying there since clearing and cleaning are not part of the familial genetic make up and only part of mine after a transfer of DNA from Anthea. I now have two or three free days to complete my house work. The race is off, and the battle has been won by the forces of frugality. I will clean my house this week instead of charming my bank manager. I plan to spend tomorrow in my craft room organising my stuff.... but we'll see what the morning brings, eh?
I so need to clean my house, but there's sweing, computer, telly, reading, sleeping, eating, socialising. And well then there's just no time for cleaning. Of course there's the kids too and all their mess, so definately no point .. lol..!
ReplyDeleteAh the best laid plans.....
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