Home Sweet Home Sick

I spent the holidays sick this year. First time for everything, and I'm proud to say I powered through it with minimal damage. Even managed a glass or two of wine because you can't not drink on Christmas.

However, given the upcoming move tomorrow, the timing could not have been more poor. I have been telling myself to suck it up and count my blessings, but it's really hard to do when wiping snot off the floor that has fallen from my nose as I mop 3200 square feet of pine flooring while sweating like a gorilla in heat.

In two days, I have cleaned this place top to bottom. And the first thought that crossed my mind when done a few minutes ago was holy shit it took two days to clean this place. Followed by where am I going to lay down, seeing as my furniture is in a box outside. What have I gotten us into?

Survey says: the joys of home ownership.

As I sit in a folding camping chair, waiting for Scott to return with the next load, I'm exhausted and elated. Those (whatever nine times twelve is) window panes are gleaming, and my kitchen is cooking ready. I've worked my ass off for this privilege, both at the office and at the house, and I am ready to enjoy it.

Just as soon as the mucus level in my head no longer causes vertigo as I go up and down the spiral staircase.


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