I cleaned everything today. I dusted everything. I cleaned the glass door out to the patio. I cleaned off the kitchen counter and cleaned out the toaster oven. I vac'd (the family room, anyway). All 4 bathrooms. Stripped and remade all the beds, washed all the sheets and other laundry.
DH called to see how I was doing today and I told him I cleaned everything. He said, "Wow, you have a lot of energy today." I said, "No. I just couldn't stand living in this house the way it was, and if I didn't do it, it wasn't going to get done."
I think he was a bit taken aback by that. I didn't say it as an indictment of him, because I don't expect him to do this stuff. I usually do it more often than I have been lately, and the place really had turned into a pit. I meant to clean last week but I had that biopsy and lots of other running around. Meant to do it over the weekend and my ambition failed. Meant to do it Tuesday but ran out of steam and freaked out over the colonoscopy prep. Couldn't do it yesterday, so that left me at today with a state that I couldn't stand anymore.
So I cleaned.
I had a sense of accomplishment. It lasted about 10 minutes, and then DD and DS2 went outside and proceeded to smear up the nice clear door. I swear, as soon as that door is clean they make it their mission to mess it up again. So I have a sense of futility, too, but it's not that strong. It's just nicer not being surrounded by dust and cathair and whatnot.
We saw a real tumbling tumbleweed today on the way home from DD's school. That was cool. I'd much rather see a real one outside than the cat hair and dust scooting down the hallway in the same way...