I am just leaving yesterday’s post up today because we had technical difficulties, ahem:
I am crabby as I write this. No suprise – if I’m awake, I’m crabby. I will try to not let that spill over into my writing, but I can’t guarantee anything.
After church and grocery shopping, Lloyd and I tackled the big mess upstairs. It’s been weeks and weeks of wading through boxes and bags on the floors and searching for clean underwear in one of the four baskets of (clean) clothes on the bedroom floor. I kept up with keeping the laundry washed, but we most certainly didn’t put any of it away. Today that was accomplished, along with a vacuuming that could have created another cat. So. Much. Hair.
Then I went to Lincoln to get some boards for – surprise – more hooks. I needed two rows of 14 feet, so I figured I’d get some 8-foot boards and cut them down. Guess what? Menard’s doesn’t have 8-foot boards. They have 6 feet and they have 10. So I bought some of each and prayed that the long ones would fit in the Prius. I was prepared to go out back and ask them to chop them down.
Guess what?
They totally fit. I padded the dashboard so Lloyd wouldn’t get mad.
But then stuff happened that made me crabby. Stupid work. Stupid crabbiness.
Kristi says
Time for bed, right?
Brad says
I hate folding clothes. Washing and drying is no problem, but folding…. Ugh.
Deborah says
I fold clothes while watching tv, so it’s ok.