Pointless Points

If you've been hanging around here for a while, or if you know me at all, you surely know that I'm an expert procrastinator, I don't freak out when my house looks less-than-perfect, and I love running.  So, here I sit, procrastinating housework while writing about running (and etc.)

• Running has seemed more like a chore than usual, lately.  I have some ideas why this is the case.

1. My dear sister/MIKR (most inspiring known runner) broke her foot.  It's not that I'm trying not to love running while she is unable to do anything involving foot use, but my heart hurts for her.  It's kinda like on every sitcom, ever, when the woman is in labor and the man who loves her has sympathy pains and ends up screaming along with her.  

24 hours post-break.  People who run 50+ miles per week get their toes cropped out of pictures.  You're welcome.

2. I have some non-sympathy pain of my own.  My *expletive* right *expletive* calf hurts something fierce--but only sometimes.  Usually, it's really bad when I start running, bearable after a mile or so, and eventually forgettable.  Sometimes, though, it hurts just to walk, or just to be a leg.  New "doctor" (she's actually an RNP but I don't like using that as a title) ordered an x-ray- inconclusive, a venous ultrasound- more on that in a moment, and an MRI- to be performed tomorrow.  My left ankle also hurts a lot, ever since I *expletive* fell backwards over the *expletive* concrete step on our *expletive* carport and knocked it.  I feel like such an old woman.  The Fall was almost 2 weeks ago, I don't have a bruise, yet every time I touch or move my left ankle, it hurts.  If you couldn't tell, pain makes me *expletive* angry.

3. It's hot.  I'm not complaining.  I would much rather deal with the sweltering heat for 9-10 months a year than snow and ice for any months, but it does make running outdoors much sweatier, stinkier, and slower.

• I've been doing many more non-running workouts than ever before.  Just look at all my figures!

Cycling, yoga, dancing (that's what I call the Classical Stretch workouts I do), swimming, weights, & walking.

Swimming is fun, but I'm still terrible, and terribly slow, at it.  Cycling is also fun, but I find myself unable to push myself.  I'm always riding at an easy pace, which gets boring after not very long.  I love yoga, and I love working out with weights, and I love the 1/2 hour stretching workouts that I DVR.  I've also been keeping up with a 30-day planking challenge, using the Plank-A-Lot app.  I'm up to 90 seconds!

• Every once in a while, I come up with something that I feel is quote-worthy.  Okay, so every once in a while, in this case, means twice.  Ever.  Here are the quotes that I wish others would use and attribute to me:
"The truth is the truth regardless of who believes it."
- Know-it-all-Miss, 1995


"It's not that I'm bad at keeping my house tidy, it's that I love the challenge of a well-designed obstacle course."
-Know-it-all-Mrs, 2014


• Did you know you can make a heating pad that works just as well as a store-bought electric one?  This is money-saving advice!  Unless you already own a heating pad, then you can skip to the next bullet. 

Step 1- Dampen a cloth (I use a hand towel) and fold it so that it fits inside a quart-sized ziploc bag.

Step 2- Keep the bag open and microwave for 1-1 1/2 minutes on high power.

Step 3- Remove the bag from the microwave with tongs, zip it closed, and wrap it in a dry hand towel.  

I wouldn't have expected a zipper plastic bag to retain heat so well, but it does.  It'll stay hot for at least an hour, or until you open the bag.

The instructions I read, though, say that you shouldn't use it for more than 20 minutes at a time because of the possibility of burning yourself.  Yeah, it's that hot!  And now that I've added that disclaimer, you can't sue me if you burn yourself on your homemade hot compress.

• Why is she using a homemade heating pad? you may be wondering.  Well, it just so happens that there is more evidence of my old-lady-hood in my legs.  Remember the venous ultrasound the "doctor" ordered?  They say I have "varicose vein thrombosis" in my right leg.  I was told by the nurse to use a warm compress and elevate my leg for 10 minutes every few hours, and to take an aspirin or other NSAID every day.  The problem is that the Omniscient Google doesn't agree.  OG seems to think that there is no such thing as varicose vein thrombosis.  There is deep vein thrombosis, which is a pretty serious condition, and there is superficial thrombophlebitis, which is not at all serious and not supposed to be painful.  But, it wouldn't be like me at all to argue with a health professional, so I'm going along with the recommended course of action.  For now.
• You know about that big scandal going on in the NBA right now, right?  It strikes me as odd that the last names of the two main guys being talked about are Sterling & Silver.  What do you think are the chances that I'm the only weirdo in America who has noticed that?
• I'm back on Facebook after my 40 day break.  I've learned that Facebook, for me, is like driving a vanful of my friends' kids around.   I love my friends, and I do want to help them out by driving their kids, but they're just. so. loud.  They talk about boring stuff, they're all talking over each other and trying to outdo one another with their stupid stunts, they're distracting and sometimes outright rude, and yet, I can't just ignore them.  So now, I've backed off a bit on my carpool driver responsibilities.  And I sure do appreciate the quiet when all the kids are finally dropped off (at the pool-heh heh heh).
• Rip Claw's first season of Flag Football ended last Saturday.  He is a talented, focused, and very driven player.  I think Charming and I are going to miss watching his games just as much as he is going to miss playing every weekend.  

I guess that's enough pointless drivel bullet points for now.  

Anybody want to place bets on whether or not my next MRI will reveal a stress fracture?

You got the Sterling/Silver thing, right?

What I'm Reading, Hearing, Watching, and Doing

Reading:
My reading list, as usual, is as exciting as it is excessive.  I actually only spend about 20 minutes reading each day, so the fact that I'm carrying around and placing by the bedside all these books is pretty ridiculous.  But if loving so many books is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

I haven't actually started the newest addition to the culinary mystery series I love, but it's a library book, so I have to start and finish it quickly.  I'm almost finished with "The Gifts of Imperfection" (it's my nighttime book) and I'm about halfway through "The Shining" (one of two daytime books).  I purchased the sequel, "Doctor Sleep", as my pages-in-waiting.  The author of the book on my kindle is an old family friend, Darin Michael Shaw.  I believe "Chronicles of War" is his first novel, but his second published work.  I selected the giant book about the Vanderbilt ladies for my book group.  It was one of the more interesting-seeming titles that came up when I googled "books to make you smarter."  So far, I don't feel much smarter, though.  It seems to me that the Vanderbilt family was like a much earlier version of the Kardashian family.  I find myself disapproving of their long-ago extravagant parties and constant building of expensive houses, and not necessarily on principle.  I feel that they're a big part of the reason today's society is so celebrity-gaga and so shallow, as a whole.  Unfair?  That remains to be seen.

Hearing:
From Rip Claw: "Do we have any fun plans for today/tomorrow/the weekend?"  I don't know how or exactly when his obsession with "fun plans" started, but he was literally asking me that question every.single.day.  I figure there isn't anything wrong with wanting to know our plans, or with wanting them to be fun.  I was really tired of hearing the question, though, so I came up with this:

On the chalkboard painted portion of his bedroom wall.

In typical mom fashion, I included chores and additional school work (I give him advanced math problems, reading or writing assignments when we play school) in the fun.  Muah hah hah!

From Cupcake: "NO LIKE IT!" It's a rather long story, and not all that interesting, so I'll sum up: she has to drink some different kind of non-dairy milk that she isn't used to drinking.  We've tried soy, vanilla flavored almond, coconut, and lactaid milks.  Finally, after several days of bribing, cheering, rewarding, bargaining, begging, and attempting to disguise the flavors, she drank some soy milk without throwing her cup and yelling that dreaded phrase.  In addition to being a picky drinker, she is becoming a very finicky eater.  Perfect, considering she's off-the-chart small and her pediatrician probably thinks we're trying to cultivate an early eating disorder. ("Mom, what's it called when people say the opposite of something to try to be funny?" Sarcasm, son.  You'll hear a lot of it in our family.) It's hard to get her to eat enough protein and fat, so I'm very much okay with her love of hummus, guacamole, and peanut butter.

Ignore the messy counter top in the background and focus on the fact that she was licking fresh, homemade guacamole from her fingers.

Watching:
Okay, I'll be honest.  I wrote the title and the first half of this post about 9 hours ago, and now I can't remember what I was going to share about this subject.  You know how frustrating it is when you lose your train of thought mid-sentence?  This is like that, only a little worse.  I've been sitting at the computer for 40 minutes now, asking myself repeatedly, "What am I watching?"  I keep coming up with a few things that I know weren't IT, but will have to do.

• Parenthood- It's a show about 4 grown siblings and their own families.  Charming and I are getting thoroughly spoiled by watching it on Netflix, because we're still not caught up to the current season and can therefore watch 3 episodes a night when we are awake enough.  I dare you to watch and not find yourself relating to at least one of the main characters.
• Progress.  Charming is well on his way to his first ever half-marathon race!  His dedication to the training program and the ease with which he seems to achieve greater and greater things are just so thrilling to watch.  He'll be running the Swamp House Half Marathon in March.  You should, too.
• Potential paydays.  I am officially an approved substitute teacher for our county's schools.  Some of you may know this already, but many of you probably missed the blog post about it that I deleted a couple of days after publishing it.  (Curious, now, are you?  Let me know in the comments if you want to read the gory details and I'll see what I can do to satisfy.)  Now that I'm an employee, but not actually working, I'm spending time each day watching for jobs to open up.  
• Pigging out.  The 2 weeks of clean eating made me aware of my awful piggish habits.  I've been watching my junk food and overall calorie intake, these days, and I've only gorged myself a couple of times.  

Doing:
Really running!  I was surprised by how long after my tibial stress fracture I was running tentatively.  Like a slow, scaredy baby.  Also surprising was how long the mild soft tissue pain can last.  After long or fast runs, I still see swelling around the spot that was fractured, and the muscles in my calf and shin on that leg are much more tender than those on the other leg.  Apparently, though, this type of pain is not unusual for up to a year after an injury like the one I had.  I've been building my weekly mileage back up, and I've had some very successful long runs that have left me feeling like a real runner again.

Really cleaning!  Long ago, I made myself a cleaning schedule that looked so good on paper.  Well, it's actually on Google Calendar, but you know what I mean.  Turns out, following the schedule makes my house look good, too!  I (almost) always regret procrastination; I hate that I put off the tasks that I know I need to accomplish.  I decided recently that I would really, truly, not-just-saying-so, try to procrastinate less and try not to waste so much of my free time on nonsense.  It's a hard thing to do, to be productive, but it really is worthwhile.  What a wonderful feeling of relief comes when the laundry baskets, washer and dryer are all empty!


What advice should you take away from this post?  Read the books I'm reading.  Turn the tables on your kids when you hear things from them that are annoying.  Remember the information you want to convey.  Running is fun, even when it's scary.  Finally, go do--whatever--now!  Don't wait.



Best way to break a bad habit?

Best way to remember your own ideas?

Dear Science,

I don't pretend to understand you.  I mean, we're acquainted, but not the best of friends.  You might not realize this, but I've been enamored with you since 2nd grade when we planted beans and made rock candy.  We grew apart for a while, and then my love for you was rekindled when I was 13 and stayed true until, well, you got kinda math-y on me.  If only I could  have discovered all your hidden beauty and mystery without such bothers as "accurate measurement" and "statistical significance" and "physics."  Sigh.

Sweet!

I know that our relationship was not exclusive, and you probably didn't even notice when I abandoned you after college.  I had been distancing myself from you ever since that Biology 101 class during my Freshman year, when we weren't allowed to dissect anything, grow anything, or DO anything except take the end-of-chapter quizzes and watch movies (stupid, lazy, no-lesson-plans professor, tore us apart!).  Bo-ring.

My son learned more while feeding the ducks and turtles at the pond than I learned that entire semester.

The thing is, Science, I've still got a thing for you.  I know, I know.  I've been away too long, it will never work, we're too different now.  I don't expect us to pick up where we left off all those years ago.  We've both moved on.  What I really need now is for you to be more open and communicative with those who love you and who have been so dedicated to you.  I'm sure you've heard this before; folks come crawling back to you when they're looking for answers and realize that you're the key to solving their troubles.  Maybe I am being selfish.  But won't you please at least consider my requests?  Remember, we don't have to get back together for me to be happy.  I don't want to make you feel awkward, trying to get me caught up on all I've missed, and we both know that we'd have to waste lots of time reviewing things you had already shown me back when I was young and smart and had no children of my own to replace my deep, introspective contemplation of important, relevant things with thoughts of chicken nuggets, goldfish crackers, and Dora's explorations vs. Blue's clues.

Request #1- A cure for migraine headaches.  I realize there are awful, deadly diseases, afflictions more painful, and physical problems which are much, much harder to deal with than migraines.  Remember how I mentioned being selfish a minute ago?  Yes, this is a selfish request.  Let me modify it, slightly.  If I could just understand the migraines- the causes, symptoms, effective treatments, how long I can be suffering from one before everyone calls me a sissybaby behind my back, whether there is any real prevention method- that would be fantastic.  To make it easier on you, Science, I will gladly volunteer to have your Ists to study my brain, ask me questions, be fascinated by the auras that show up like clockwork before the pain sets in, and give me experimental drugs.

These poor, sweet children have to whisper when their Mom has a migraine, as their normal speaking voices bring tears of pain to her eyes.

Request #2- A cure for food allergies.  Not Lactaid.  That stuff tastes like drywall painted with toothpaste and doesn't even help relieve pain.  Not an epi-pen to save the life of the kid who accidentally ingested a peanut.  Not slightly-less-disgusting-than-they-used-to-be gluten-free products.  Food allergies are so unfair, and we need a cure.

Oreo cookie dunked in cold, creamy milk?  No.  Ice cream cone?  Nope.  Cranberry chutney stuffed brie cheese with fruit and crackers?  Negative.  Alfredo sauce?  Not unless it's made from cauliflower and soy milk.  Grilled cheese sandwich?  Mac-n-cheese?  Mashed potatoes?  Brown butter tortellini?  Pizza????  Sorry, Baby.  You can't have any of those things.  

Come on, Science.  We all know that you hold the key to unlocking all the mysteries of digestion, indigestion, and allergic reactions in the palm of your mysterious hand.  Won't you please show it to us?

Request #3- A self-cleaning floor.  Yeah, so I'm back to making selfish requests.  But before you shrug me off, think about this:  EVERYONE (and I don't think that's an exaggeration!) would like a floor that cleaned itself.  I'm not talking about a Roomba or whatever that creepy thing is that runs into walls all on its own.  I'm talking Jetsons-style.  Okay, so I think Rosie actually cleaned their floors, but I just mean their style.  I want to press a button on the wall or speak a few words aloud and have my floor obey immediately.  You know how there are little gutter bumpers that come up in the lane when it's a kid's turn to bowl?  I imagine that those kind of things would pop up from under the floor to barricade the area that was being cleaned.  The vacuum suction would come from underneath, as would the water and soap for the mopping.  Finally, the floor would be dried quickly so that it could be walked on almost without interruption.  (I think you've already let us figure out the dryers, actually.  Those automatic hand dryers in park bathrooms are pretty stinkin' powerful.  That had to be your doing, Sci [Can I call you Sci?  No?  You're afraid of being mistaken for a much-too-well-known, can't-believe-anyone-listens to this, so-called rapper?  Gotcha.].  Thanks!)  The best part?  Even if the floor had just been cleaned when someone spilled their soy milk or tracked mud in or dropped cooked couscous, with the simple press of a button and zero complaining, it could be clean again within minutes!

It's true that wethey've discovered a lot about you already, Science, and don't think me ungrateful.  Louis CK says in that viral video that I can't seem to find, "Everything's amazing and nobody's happy."  Everything is amazing, but I am happy, even though you and I have lost touch.  It's just...I think it's about time for a new Science Revolution (wait a sec- a "new revolution"- that's poorly worded, eh?  Oh, well.  Probably nobody will care, unless you let your sister-in-law, English, read this letter).

(Oops.  I think it's against the rules to end a paragraph with a set of parentheses, too?  Please don't show this letter to English!  Or to Grammar, for that matter!)

Sincerely,

Friendly in Florida

p.s.
Here's a bit of advice that I need to remember more than you do, Science:  Be smart.  Think.  Create.  Experiment.  Your ideas might just bring fame and fortune to yourself and some Ists!

p.p.s. (tee hee!  p p!)
Yes, I know how to spell 'scientists'.  I realize there's a 't' before the 'ists'.  Lemme alone, I can call 'em 'ists' if I want to!

Never Have I Ever...

...played the drinking game with the same title as this post.  For real, Mom and Dad.  I never did!  I just saw it on tv.  Feel free to check out the rules in the link and play as you read this post, though.  Then you can comment with how many times you (would have) had to drink  Sometimes, I am taken aback by how ridiculously happy and blessed I am, and I start to feel a bit guilty about my cheery, adorable-photo-filled, mushy gushy, sunshine and rainbows, I-love-my-husband-and-running posts.  I feel like I should make it clear that I am also often taken aback by how imperfect I am; how many stupid things I do, how many bad decisions I make.  Please enjoy (It's okay to take pleasure in reading about the shortfalls of others- we all do it.  Right?  No?  Well, then there's one.) my Confessions of Ineptitude.

Never Have I Ever...
...opened the box containing the iron or unwrapped the ironing board, both purchased over 3 years ago, because I didn't own either one.  Yes, that means what you think it means.  6 y.o. has never seen a clothes iron used in our home.

...washed our house's windows or screens.  I have dusted the blinds and vacuumed the windowsills, but I wouldn't even know where to begin actual window washing.  I seem to remember using the garden hose to spray water at the windows when I was growing up, but that may not have actually been helpful to my parents.
...mowed a lawn.  I see our old lady neighbor, out using her push mower, and feel a little twinge of...something.  Embarrassment, probably, but it feels a little like regret mixed with fear (of getting to retirement age and having to sacrifice buying coffee so I can pay the lawn guys) and relief.  Again, I wouldn't even know where to begin.
...put money in the buckets held by people standing in the road, or in the hands of people holding signs.  I actually consider myself to be a pretty generous and charitable person, and I do donate food, clothing, and money to different organizations.  The people on the side of the road scare me, though, and I always pretend I don't see them.  When I think it through, it's very silly.  As if throwing a dollar into the bucket of the reflective vest wearer will somehow give him the inclination to drag me out of my car and murder me?  As if lowering my window and handing spare change to the person holding the "homeless and hungry anything help godbless" sign is going to instigate an attack or kidnapping?  Probably not.
...been so ashamed of my feet.  I have a spa gift card, waiting to be used on a pedicure, and I can't bring myself to set an appointment.  I'm sure they're not the most disgusting feet in the universe, but they're easily the most disgusting I've ever owned.

My actual feet, before they betrayed me and turned to the dark side.

...been asked for hair styling, makeup, decorating, fashion, or dancing tips.  I'm quite certain I never will be asked, either.
...been the Fantasy Football league champion.  I did make the playoffs last season!  I was even ranked first for several weeks.  Ended up in 4th place, my highest (just out of the money) finish yet.

Almost Always, I...
...procrastinate.  I put off easy tasks.  I put off difficult tasks.  I put off necessary things, I put off phone calls and emails and really silly things like filling up water bottles.  Why does "later" always seem more appealing than "now"?  Procrastinating is almost always the wrong choice, and I wish I could give advice on how to stop it, but the only tip I can think of is the obvious one- just do it now.

Ha!

...park my car crookedly.  Yep.  I'm one of those.  Mine is the car you shake your head at as you walk through the lot, and mutter, "Wheredja learn to park?" or something.  Even more ridiculous than the fact that I am so bad at parking after almost 20 years of practice (GAAAH!  I'M SO OLD!) is the joy and pride I feel when I occasionally find my car in the center of the space.  It's not such a huge accomplishment.  Really, I should be celebrating and sending pictures to my family when I have not procrastinated doing a simple chore like folding laundry or emptying the dishwasher.
...am late.  I'm terrible at estimating the time it takes to do anything, even if I've done it 100 times.  I'm also easily distracted.  Not sure if you know it, but that combo does not equal promptness.  Remember what I said up there about doing stupid things?  Here's one that I do way too often: I set my alarm to wake me up with what I think is 20 extra minutes to get ready.  Stay in bed an extra 5 minutes.  End up with 5 extra minutes before I need to leave the house, and rather than just getting in my crooked car and leaving early, I start a task that I've been procrastinating.  I tell myself it will only take 3 minutes.  Inevitably, it takes at least 10.  I check the clock, feel genuine shock, and rush out the door.
...skip flossing.  I was going to put this in the "never have I ever" category, but I'm positive I've flossed my teeth at some point in my life.  I remember my gums bleeding.  I think the last time I flossed was pre-Y2K.  I stopped, figuring that if the world was going to end anyway, there was really no point in having super healthy teeth.

10 years, no floss.  Na na na boo boo, folks with a genetic predisposition toward tooth decay.

I have a hard time remembering...
...what the red and blue, elephant and donkey represent.  I mean, I know they symbolize Republicans and Democrats, but I can never remember which color is which and which animal is which.
...how to tell the difference between a bass and a regular guitar.  Yes, this is coming from the same gal who has attended a really awesome number of rock concerts.
...to concentrate on my form when I'm running.  One day, I went to the gym at 5 a.m. and ran on the treadmill directly in front of the window so that I could see my reflection perfectly.  I had forgotten my iPod.  There were only 1 or 2 other people anywhere close.  I still got distracted from watching myself and fixing my obvious errors.
...to respond to party invitations.  I feel like such a heel about it, too.  Not a pretty, just pedicured heel, either.  Like, one of my heels.
...to use coupons before they expire.  Nothing makes me growl and stomp like throwing away money.
...due dates.  For more than a decade, I didn't set foot in the library because I had forgotten to return some books that were in the trunk of my car when I sold it.  I was granted a library card again a few years ago, and now I think of my late fines as donating to a charity that I like.  If I don't think of it that way, I get all growly and stompy again.

I could go on, of course.  I thought about asking Husband for additional evidence of my ineptitude, but then I figured I would get upset, no matter what he said.  Here's something you should remember- asking people to tell you your faults, in detail, will usually not make you feel so sunshine-y and smiley.  Better to just concentrate on the triumphs and joys in your life, and put off fixing your faults until tomorrow.

How many times would you have had to drink in agreement with my statements?

Any tips on window washing?  I might try it soon.

If at Fourth You Don't Succeed...

Alternate post title: Swept Away With Good Intentions
Second Alternate post title: TBA after Husband reads this 

I don't think the words, "She is such a neat freak!" have ever been uttered about me.  I don't feel bad using clean dishes straight out of the dishwasher.  I've had some of the same bottles of cleaning supplies since we bought our home almost 3 years ago (That sounds a little disgusting.  It's like, Windex and stuff.  Plus, our house is small and we only have one bathroom.  Don't judge.)  I am more likely to pick up visible crumbs off the floor than to sweep every single day.  (Listen.  If you're going to get that look on your face, you may as well stop reading now.)  I have winter clothes under my bed and un-framed pictures under my dresser.  Generally, I only empty the crumb tray from the toaster oven about an hour before my in-laws arrive.  You've probably got the idea by now, unless you stopped reading after you pictured my kitchen floor.

Sometimes, I make excuses- "It's more important to spend time with my family" or "I don't have time" or "I just have so many other things to do".  But, in reality, it just simply doesn't bother me all that much to see messes.  I get all skin-crawley when I see someone type 'your' instead of 'you're', but I can look at a pile of mail on the counter for several days before it starts to bug me.  It does, however, bother me that our 5 y.o. seems to have inherited my freaky-not-neat-freakiness.

Like Mama...

...like son.

I'm also pretty sure it bothers Husband, and probably everyone else, too.  So, I tried to change.  Soon after Baby was born, we decided that I would quit my jobs and be a stay-at-home Mom.  I soon realized that although I had always excelled at my paying jobs, I was falling far short in the housecleaning department of my current occupation.  I made some lists (I'm a truly marvelous list-maker) and did some deep cleaning.  It felt great!  I was proud, relieved, excited, and able to find the band-aids in the cabinet under the bathroom sink at a moment's notice.  I only stalled when it came time to clean out the playroom closet.  I just couldn't do it by myself.  (Wait.  That's another excuse.  I could have done it.  It would have been much harder than it was when, a few months later, Husband and I cleaned it together.)  Once I lost momentum, I didn't get it back for quite some time.  Finally, I decided to toss out the old lists and start again.

My new list was a Rollover.  I decided to write down what I wanted to accomplish each day, but actually give myself a week to cross off each item.  Whatever I hadn't done Monday simply rolled over to Tuesday, and so on.  Turns out, Rollover Lists are better in theory than in practice.  I kept adding "dishes" and "laundry" just so I would have something to cross off, and by Sunday, I still hadn't cleaned the playroom closet.  

At last, it was time to get the Christmas decorations out of the playroom closet.  Husband cheerfully helped me clean and organize the space, and we decided to have a yard sale with the piles of evicted closet items.  I was certain that once we got rid of all the junk valuable, unneeded items, I would be able to keep the whole house neat and tidy.  Here's something you should know:  Yard sale customers don't want all your castoffs, or even most of them.  In this case, they only wanted $78 worth of stuff, and $2 worth of giant, homemade Snickerdoodles.  

For my fourth attempt, I turned to the Almighty, All-Powerful *insert drumroll* Google.  The calendar is quite handy.  Color coding, one-click repeat items, and the beauty of seeing everything I was going to do in one pretty spot was really, stinkin' encouraging.  Every Sunday, at noon, I will change the sheets.  Every Monday and Thursday, at 10 a.m., I will clean the floors.  The calendar is also linked to my phone, so I don't even have to turn on the computer to see what I need to do.

You may have guessed, by now, that this plan has also been unsuccessful (so far).  But I'm not giving up!  I will stick with my new plan: Just Do It.  I've ultimately realized that, as much as I hate to admit it, my problem is really just laziness.  I have plenty of time to clean.  I can involve my family, in order to teach better habits to the 5 y.o. and impress Husband.  And, when my "so many other things to do" don't get in the way of my facebook stalking interacting, I have to own up to the fact that I'm just being slothful.  

Today's advice-just do it. Now, I will turn off the computer, get up from the couch, and go clean off, out, and under my dresser.  For real.  I'm going.  Right now.

Care to admit any of YOUR faults?  All the judgy people stopped reading a way long time ago.