the N word

I just scrubbed the floors. I mean, I was totally down on my hands and knees scrubbing the damn floors. I have a steam cleaner that works perfectly well, and I've never before felt the need to revist ancient times where a bucket, some soap and a really bristley brush were de rigeur. The funny thing is, it was only once I'd finished that I thought to myself 'Why did this hard, manual labour seem like such a good and normal idea at the time? Because aibs, you're clean and all, but scrubbing brushes? Buckets? What the fuck?'

I'm also on my third or fourth load of washing for the day, I dusted and swept everything yesterday, and I cleaned the front porch (where I also organised the pot plants to look just so) before taking my car to get a fully loaded cleansing experience. Right now though, I'm all twitchy because all this other stuff has kept me from making sure the bathroom floor is clean enough to lick.

Which, you know, isn't like me.

I'm clean, sure I am, but OCD about it? Uh, no.

I guess I'll get around to the bathroom tomorrow. Or tonight. Or now.....