The insanity ends now…

…until next weekend, when I do the same shit all over again expecting different results.

This is what happens to my home on weekends, because I work weekends and don’t have time to adult or house.

Normally,  I’m one of those “a place for everything and everything in its place” kind of girl. Normally I limit the amount of stuff that comes into my home; if I get new shoes/pants/whatever, I get rid of an old one. One in, one out.

With the house starting to actually look like a house or something,  I’ve been relaxing that “one in one out” rule somewhat.

Side note: Let’s get honest. I’ve just thrown that fucking rule right out the window.

I’ve been keeping things, because I’m about to have space for things. I can have more than 9 pairs of shoes.

Side note: Let’s get honest. I don’t think I’ve ever owned only 9 pairs of shoes.

Weekends, I’m so tired when I get home that I just stuff shit wherever it will fit. Which means that Mondays are spent unfucking my habitat.

Now, I’m off to do some unfucking. Wish me luck!

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Overachiever much?

Actually,  no. I don’t. 

Yesterday was an anomaly.  After I posted all the things on my to-do list  and that what I was contemplating was a closet purge… Well, I made a decision to tackle the to-do list and my rewards for a morning of productivity would be the closet purge.

I never made it to the closet purge.

I did accomplish a lot, though.

I got the jam made and the pears are gone (except for the 6 remaining pears that I split between our house and Mr B’s house). I forgot to take any pictures of the disastrous tetris game my house became while I was canning, and I also forgot to take pictures of my little rows of cinnamon pear jam. That shit was yummy, though. Mr B and I cleaned the pot with spoons and our fingers.

Side note: this time, I used the pectin designed for sugar-free jams and it worked like a freaking charm. Now I need to get the boss to get me some cantaloupes so I can make some vanilla cantaloupe jam for the EcoFeminist (and anybody else that wants some needs to let me know so I know how much crap to buy to make enough for everyone).

After the marathon jam session with the pears, I actually got some of the coffee cup sleeves made for the coffee shop next to my work.

It’s nowhere near enough to meet demand, but it should hold her over til I can bring more on Sunday when I work again.

I also managed to get the compost bucket emptied onto the heap (with a bit of help from Sunshine), I got the bottled water somewhat dealt with (some bagged up to go to work and some in the fridge for Sunshine.  I put the books in the tube with the remaining bottles of water, and Mr B took the autumn harvest decorations outside until I can get them cracked open to harvest the seeds. 

I also received two shipments; and I got the items put away and the packaging got disposed of. One package was new sneakers, the other was the pendant lights for the bedroom of our little house. Sunshine says we’ll go get our shower plumbing fixtures this weekend. We’re finally getting into the fun parts of house building! 

Yesterday was frenetic and left me wiped out. Someone send chocolate,  please?

Notes from the road: day 1

I didn’t make it 40 miles from the house before I had to stop for gas in the glamorous town of Paris TX.

Aren’t you impressed with all that glitz?

While I was paying for gas, I couldn’t resist the breakfast of champions.

That’s right. Metallica + Donut Sticks = the breakfast of champions. 

I passed through the megalopolis of Shreveport,  which is always so depressing. 

It was over fast.

Just east of Vicksburg,  I20 passes through a slightly primeval looking bit of forest.

It was over fast, too.

Then I found myself in the middle of the Talladega forest.

The roads were dry at that point, so it was over fast, too.

The Atlanta skyline and traffic always make my heart sing.

That wasn’t sarcasm. I may hate driving, but I come alive in Atlanta traffic.

Side note: hell, if I didn’t, I’d get killed dead as hell for sure. I learned to really drive in Atlanta traffic.

Entirely too many hours, cheetos, Donut Sticks,  & Starbucks doubles hots later, I’m at mom’s. Calling a cinnabon dinner. Because that’s how I adult.