This is what it looks like when you buy a dead Christmas tree {without knowing it, of course}, then leave it up for six weeks and attempt to take it down and out without the assistance of your able husband.
Since Josh has been to the emergency room once, stayed overnight at the hospital, had surgery and been to the doctor twice since we got home on Tuesday and I’ve worked exactly fourteen hours this week and spent the remainder caring for him, our house still looks like Christmas was yesterday. The trees are the only thing I’ve managed to take down, the wreath is dead and getting worse by the minute, there are boxes everywhere, about 90 loads of laundry to fold and a trail of junk from the front door to the back door. Josh is sleeping {the Demerol and Percocet helped, I’m sure}, Ella isn’t home yet and I’m standing here staring at the mess wondering where to even begin.
The good news is I’ve scrapped 8 pages of Ella’s life this week, cheered for the return of prime time television, paid bills, balanced my checkbook and ordered a day planner. Still on the list are:
- fold laundry
- clean kitchen, bathroom & laundry room
- dust & vacuum
- box up Christmas decorations
- organize closets {I still haven’t put my winter clothes in the closet yet}
- refinish table/chairs for my living room
- clean off back porch
- organize storage shed
- take the dog to the vet
- have my car serviced before the warranty runs out
- and fulfill prior New Year’s Resolutions
Anyone want to join me for a Coke?
