Mmmmmf.

My bus went right through the heart of Chinatown tonight in the dusky evening under a deep greying blue sky that moved swiftly towards black. The shops were all open, their fronts spilling out baskets of pickled vegetables and dried fish and other things I couldn't recognise onto the sidewalk, so that you couldn't really tell where the shop ended and the sidewalk began under the awnings. Everything was lit brightly but not harshly, and occasionally there would be a ship of gifts, carved wood or bright paper like jewels against the only slightly more muted tones of the food shops.

There were people there, but I did not notice them.

I worked hard today, hard enough to sweat through most of it. It felt good, as if I'd accompplished something, though there was more to do than expected and so there is work tomorrow as well. I'd like to clean my house before the Juggler comes over tomorrow.

When I got home my pot (there are three small ones; two are the SO's, one is mine) had traces of dried pasta sauce in the bottom, so I could not begin my IV of miso soup immediately. It waits on the stove now, warming, finally.

I am active and alive today, and I will be very tired tonight. I can see that things are beautiful again. I am, as I said earlier, moving.

Bah!

So, an hour and a half's worth of cleaning plus some sushi and miso later, she contemplates the house. A little bubble forms above her head as she does so. It reads:

It's time once again for the Who Cleans The House show starring Greenie and the SO!

She groans and puts the broom away. The house ius mostly tidied, most of the garbage that's accumulated over the last two months has been placed in garbage bags near the front door, as has the recycling. Things are off the floor where they should be off the floor, laundry is put away for the first time since we moved in.

But wait! Nothing has actually been /cleaned/! I have not washed, wiped, or scrubbed anything -- and that's not because it doesn't need it. It's because, well, after a day of cleaning an hour and a half at home's more than enough.

Now, some of the stuff that I tidied up, and definitely over half, was mine. The cleaning, though... *sigh* ...and he gave the vacuum away before procuring a new one, so the carpet's pretty icky. Now, I'm not particularly fooling myself that the Juggler will notice if the place is clean or not when he comes over, but I will. I want it to be clean. I think it will be, by 5pm tomorrow. Next time I do this, though, I /will/ have help.

This entertaining post brought to you by the Greenstorm network, the letters U R G and the number 7.