SassyBlonde

I am so excited I don't know what to do with myself-- by the time I get home tonight The Muse will be at Chez Sassy, back in D.C. for good and all and crashing with us until she finds her own digs. (See, she's scooted back up into the D.C. blogroll over there.)

So what have I been doing all week? Scrubbing and vacuuming and rearranging and washing and filing and generally returning order to a house that has been egregiously out-of-whack ever since I went back to school three or so years ago (geez-- that's a long time.).

As I may have mentioned before, I am a devout believer in the art of the To-Do list, and house cleaning is no exception: every week I endeavor to work my way through a three-column, ten-point-font list of tasks, and every week I somehow fail to finish or reconcile them all. Anal-retentive, yes I guess, but you have to remember that my house is also my place of business and I have kids and parents in and out all week, inspecting the bathroom faucets, lounging on upholstered chairs and sofas and hopefully not getting covereds in cat hair, and perusing the contents of the magazine rack and the bookshelf.

It's always been a point of pride for me to try and keep a clean house-- my mom always had us helping her keep the place ship-shape on Saturday mornings after cartoons and before we went out to play, and I can vividly remember the disgust in my mom's voice when she talked about the house of somebody she knew when she was younger-- clothes thrown everywhere, trash piled up in the corners and dog hair everywhere-- and how it was her worst nightmare. Not that I'm OCD about it necessarily--anyone who's ever been her could tell you that Chez Sassy has its share of clutter-- but the point is that I try.

At any rate, for the first time in a long time, I'm actually close to FINISHING. THE. LIST. I may be one of the oddest people on the planet, but I can also tell you that if that happens I'll be one of the happiest, too.