Another Day

Today was an odd day, kind of a mash-up of the adulting I’ve been meaning to get back to and a backslide into the teenager I can turn into.

I woke up angry.  I mean, just pissed off.  Why?  Well, the headache from last night had bloomed into an iron spike drilling into my right temple and WHY CAN’T I GO A WEEK WITHOUT A FREAKING MIGRAINE.  What is wrong with my brain that it wants so badly to ruin all my good intentions?  I mean, I’ve tried looking into triggers, but all I come up with is heavy cheese-based sauces (I’m looking at you, Italian restaurants) and exercise.  I lose an ounce of water to exercise and my head goes WHAT WERE YOU THINKING TRYING TO  TAKE CARE OF YOUR BODY GO INTO THE DARK AND DON’T COME OUT UNTIL YOU LEARN YOUR LESSON.  You’d think I’d run a marathon yesterday instead of doing a three-mile walk, wherein I barely broke a sweat.  And it’s not like I don’t drink water.  I carry a water bottle around all the time.  I drank twice as much as I usually do yesterday and it made no difference.  So this is me, waking up pissed off and ready to break everything in my house because I am tired of losing sleep and losing productivity for no freaking reason.

Anyway, woke up angry and decided to clean the toilets.  They’ve been needing it since Christmas, but holidays are not conducive to doing gross housework.  I hate cleaning bathrooms.  With a passion.  I would rather mow the lawn.  I would rather get a bikini wax.  I have seen some nasty bathrooms (thank you for that, Army), and while I have a compulsion to clean and organize untidy or dirty spaces, dirty bathrooms make me gag.  But it needs to be done periodically, so I make it as painless as possible.  I have disposable cleaning pads that attach to a stick, so no disgusting toilet brushes.  And I try to take care of the task at least once a month (more frequently when we have guests).  Two adults don’t make that much of a mess, after all.  Well, over the last year I noticed some black stuff in the bowls, which I discovered was coming from the tanks.  Did you know you also have to clean the tanks of toilets?  Can life be more unfair?  It’s just mildew or mold, which probably only got started because the toilets weren’t being used as much so the water was sitting still for longer.  Running water stays cleaner than static water (unless you’re an ancient Roman and into aquifers).  I figured this out because it’s the same black gunk that we clean off of the kitty water fountain.  So I turned off the water supply, spraying water all over the floor, drained the tank and spent a good half hour cleaning the yuck.  Most of it wasn’t even the black stuff.  It was the remains of the blue disk you put in the tank to keep it clean.  WHAT KIND OF SENSE DOES THAT MAKE?  I put the blue crap in the tank so I don’t have to clean the toilet as often and the doggone thing can’t even keep its immediate environment clean.  I used up an entire jumbo roll of paper towels, the good extra absorbent kind, just to do that toilet.  And I had two more to go.

The half bath was just as gross, but I had gloves and hadn’t eaten anything so no yacking.  Buddy volunteered to do the guest bath after the HHG and the cable guy came.  He paid attention to how I did it, then found a better way that took only ten minutes and a minimum of paper towels.  See, kids?  Being clever with books isn’t useful at all.  (Also, this is what we should categorize as a First World Problem, one which I should be grateful I have since it means I don’t have to dig a new latrine every few months and I’m not likely to be eaten by a wild animal if I have to tinkle in the middle of the night.)

Buddy also vacuumed this morning.  And because he has freaky clean tendencies, too, he cleaned the vacuum roller head.  Which had a year’s worth of the other thing that will make me yack: hair.  Him just talking about it was enough.  Hurrgh.

The movers showed up and dropped off the stuff he’d shipped from SKorea, like his new TV and some of my larger souvenirs and the Christmas presents we bought for our mothers, which will be very convenient when Mother’s Day comes around.  I was pleased to be reunited with my mini kimchee pot and my Japanese tea set and we had some fun putting things away.  This is fun when you are putting something back after a year of it being an awful blank space.  It is also fun when you get to figure out a new way to organize things to fit new stuff (note: this is fun because of our freaky clean tendencies).  New TV goes in the master suite, my old TV goes in the guestroom, and the monstrosity in the guestroom goes to Good Will.  Reorganize the pans to make room for the 10″ non-stick frying pan.  Decide whether we should hold on to the two extra pairs of tongs or try to sell them at the next yard sale (honestly, who needs six pairs of tongs, not including the grilling and camping tongs).  Find new places for the various knick-knacks we collected over the last year.  We aren’t done, but at least the big boxes are empty in the garage.  We have a four-day coming up.

That pretty much concludes the adult portion of the day.  I spent two hours trying to finish setting up my Etsy only to get wildly confused by the sales tax section of the process.  That really crushed my nonchalant attitude about this venture.  I’m opening a business.  It’s not going to be a big business and I may end up selling nothing at all and it is really just a hobby to raise money for the tattoo I want.  But still.  I’m scared.  Suddenly this is all too grown-up for me.  And my brain hurts and I don’t want to be a grown-up with taxes to pay and a business to register with the state tax agency.  I just want to sell my hobby to people.

This is not me giving up on it.  I just had to get some clarity on the subject, allow the idea to settle, take a nap, and now I think I can handle the prospect.  Tomorrow.  And when we do our taxes this year, I’ll bring it up so I can maybe get an idea of what I’ll have to do to be prepared for next year’s tax returns.

I did not exercise today, unless you count resisting the urge to throw whatever happened to be in my hand at any given moment.  I kept it to my one piece of chocolate.  We had leftover soup with broccoli for lunch around 4 and cereal for dinner around 9.  I did not change out of my PJs.  Weird mix of adulting and teening.


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