So not me

When I was growing up, my Southern mother would lecture me on the wonder of all things domestic. When I would refuse to do some household thing, she would ask, "What are you going to do when you get married? Your husband will expect these things." But I was a liberated youngster. Housework? Only out of necessity. One day I would have a staff. The problem is that day has not arrived yet.

So here lies the problem. While I have grown to love cooking, I still abhor housework. Add into the equation that I can be rather particular about how things are done. And well, it's a recipe for disaster. Over the years I have become an excellent surface cleaner. Can it be thrown in a closet or under the bed? Then you're done.

The Great Organization Project of '07 has been an attempt to undo these wrongs. It started off great but then I quickly lost momentum. Until I got the cabinet. That also coincided with the first Saturday during which I did not need to be anywhere -- at least not in the daytime.

I arose Saturday morning with my list in hand. Number one on the list was to complete what I had started in the bedroom. Because half that stuff from the closet? All over the bedroom floor.

All the stuff got stowed away or thrown away. I believe I took out something like three bags of trash and some recycling as well. I finally hung those pictures that have been sitting around. And I winterized the bed -- put on the flannel sheets. The plan was that I would have at least one wonderful room to which I could return after an evening out with Stacy and some of the other women she knows.

At some point during my cleaning frenzy, I must have done a twist and lift. Because I started having severe muscle spasms in my back. And there was no flexeril in the house. Fortunately I had given myself a deadline that allowed me to rest a bit before heading out. But the pain was good since it allowed me to be just bitchy enough to the guy who tried to hit on me during my BART ride home from dinner. And it didn't stop me from meeting up with BWB and the Commander for caffeine on Sunday afternoon. Of course, I did take some ibuprofen and crawled back into bed after getting home. So much for my living room clean-up plans. Those plans are on hold until the back starts feeling better.

And the lesson learned here? I most definitely need a staff. I mean, it doesn't seem fitting that an Empress should have to do these kinds of things.



But the worst thing is that I can not dance properly to my new favorite song.