Despite the fact that I am battling a hangover induced by imbibing too many cheap sparkling wines, and then drinking my friend's discarded bevvie, I am OK! I am OK people. I wish someone had stopped me (let alone myself stopping me).
But I do have a very serious question for you.
The other day I began my day with the vacuum cleaner at 8am. I also finished the same day with the vacuum cleaner at 10pm. I've spoken at length about how much joy vacuuming gives me! It's awesome! Instant results. Matt commented that I have an unusual relationship with the vacuum. I do. We're BFFs. We're tight. We're rolling with the dust bunnies.
But while I was vacuuming I thought - why is it that I don't mind tidying and cleaning someone else's home, but when it comes to my own home, it's a real drag?
I will happily do tidying at my sister's or a friends house. But my own? MEH!
Why friends do I suffer from this traumatic malaise?
image (have you seen this book?? it's a great gift for er, someone. It's funny. Trust me. I'm an expert.)
