Flylady calls it "Crisis Cleaning." I call it "Lost Time." But no matter what ya call it, it's frenzied, it's chaotic, and it takes all damn day to do.
Actually, longer, because we're still not done.
What's the crisis? Hunky's sister is coming to visit. In fact, he's at the airport right now picking her up. Thank God she's staying at a hotel. There is no way we're ready for her.
What's the problem? Piles. Piles and piles of books that hunky has ordered from Amazon (we get a new shipment daily; I wish I was kidding). Piles of gifts my parents gave me for Christmas that still don't have a home. Oh yeah, and piles and piles of dog stuff: food, treats, toys.
I spent all day yesterday cleaning. I scoured the kitchen. I straightened up my bathroom. I tackled the bedroom. I did 7 loads of laundry. And it's still not all done.
Hunky offered several times to help. "Honey, what can I do?" He appeared helpful and willing. Yet, when assigned a task, he would disappear into his office for hours at a time.
With much prodding, he did clean his bathroom and shred a pile of sensitive material.
I finally stopped cleaning at 9 pm last night, in order to take a shower and go to bed. Oh who am I kidding? That was only an 8-hour break, designed to give me more energy to do it all over again today.
Where is Mr. Clean when ya need him?