well-dressed foolish ideas

The list of things to do has become smaller. And the only reason it has become smaller is because I didn't sleep last night, and in order to keep myself from falling into the ever horribly cyclical problem of sleeping at all the wrong times, I considered at about 6 this morning that I needed something to do.

And boy did I find something to do.

Unfortunately, I've this sick problem with anyone that wants to bring things to me at my flat. They never find me. I didn't think it would be such a difficult thing to do, but boy how wrong I am. I wasn't lost in my flat all day. I didn't need a rescue party to find me. It's not even a ginormous (that would be gigantic+enormous, only much more fun to say aloud) flat. It has one entrance, with a notification device otherwise known as a doorbell, but somehow it's some kind of contraption that eludes delivery folks. It might be one of those "21st century" things, but I really couldn't say for sure, as I didn't live in Vienna last century. I'll default to the natives on that one. So I did indeed stay within the house which holds my flat the entire day without sleep.

(I'm feeling more and more sane with every word I write. Really. Sorry for the torture, but it just has to be done. I'm not my normal level of sane right now. And you have to deal with it.)

My bedroom floor, yeah, it's never been so... so... obvious! There's so much of the floor to see! I must cover it back up - with furniture! THAT WAS NEVER DELIVERED. (I'll get over it. I will. -- When the bastards bring me the furniture sometime next fucking year.) Yet, I digress. I rearranged. I organized. I sorted. I vacuumed, for fuck's sake. I moved my bed! OH MY GOD I MOVED MY BED. It was a life changing event. Really. You should try it if you think you need some kind of life-altering experience. What other kind of life altering events can provide you with such an increased probability of toe-stubbing, multiple times - in one hour - other than moving furniture? It's not the best thing that came out of moving things around, but it sure was one of the most prominent results of the move!

Once I had secured the future of my toes turning black and blue for the next month from the adjusted bedframe, I wandered into the living room and thought to myself "This won't take long, I'm so in the groove." Right. So I started. I sorted. I organized. I (cringe to say) dusted. I can see some sort of system to the desk top and the papers and the books, but no one else would be able to readily or quickly see the system of which I speak. It's all clear in my world though. I swept, and used the scariest goddamn machine ever - as Mia likes to call the vacuum cleaner. I shook rugs and scared the living crap out of my cat on numerous occasions just by merely turning around with a broom or vacuum cleaner or some other cleaning device in my hand. I'm pleased to report that she can jump nearly a whole meter in the air when she's frightened or startled. So the living room only took me about 3 hours. I had kind of cheated though, as earlier this week I started with cleaning little bits of the room.

I did laundry like I've never done laundry before. Not even that one time where I did laundry all weekend and none of it was mine. I even used the handy dandy front loading washing machine's window, as I've learned since the last incident, to determine if a gentle wash cycle was really done or if the machine was just toying with me like the evil bastard machine that it is. Turns out it was trying to pull a fast one, but now I'm just too smart for it. "Ha ha!" I say. What a triumph.

The bathroom looks only a tad sparklier, the front room has more floor again, the living room is now covered with paper clumps from kitten play hour - that lasted 5 hours - but is in better shape otherwise, and the bedroom looks like a bedroom again (mostly).

I removed a lot of crap from my flat. And the little old lady that is my neighbor watched me make a dozen trips to the trash cans or recycle bins. She looked scornfully at me through her kitchen window, as if tossing rubbish in the bins was a horrible idea! Horrible! I got to break stuff just to fit it into the bins, and let me tell you that was perhaps the absolute highlight of my day. Breaking stuff to fit it in the bins at 3 in the afternoon, dying for some coffee or tea or caffeine of any kind, really, and being watched and scowled at by the sweetest lady in the world.

I completely and totally ignored the kitchen. I have no idea what happened, but sometime around 4 in the afternoon I said, aloud, to whomever was near (certainly NOT a delivery person, those motherfuckers) "I'm done." So the torture of cleaning, or as I prefer to call it "tidying up" continues. And must end before Sunday evening, as I can't go back to work with my flat only half tidied. It cannot be done.

That means that my to do list looks a little different now and I'm sharing it, because you totally care. (Actually, it's more for me than for you. So Nyah!)

• Wait all day Friday for no one to show up with deliveries (Originally, this was "Be home on Friday for deliveries of furniture!" but we don't really want to rehash this, right?)


• Reschedule appointments this week to allow time for sorting out flat


• Shop for flat stuff at the massively huge IKEA


• Choose a chest of drawers for bedroom, and perhaps other furniture that can hold clothing or other textile-like items


• Sort clothes to get rid of


• Sort clothes in closet - organize placement of clothes pieces by color and type (Shush, I'm not sick, thankyouverymuch.)


• Do laundry like a mad woman


• Organize miscellaneous random items in my bedroom


• Organize shoes where the real goal for this is to decrease number of shoes owned


• Put away clean laundry


• Change sheets and blankets on bed


• Pickup living room and vacuum, dust, sweep the room and its belongings


• Sweep and vacuum the front room


• Organize shoes in the front room


• Organize desk


• Accidentally trod on cat whilst walking around the flat doing stuff


• Clean rugs


• Sweep the entire living room


• Wait for deliveries on Saturday


• Wash dishes


• Assemble furniture - WHEN IT ARRIVES


• Move living room furniture around


• Shop for gifts (Not out of place. Really)


• Sweep and vacuum kitchen


• Take clothes that I intend to never wear again out of flat


• Return friend's shopping wares


• Return bag of clothes and books to rightful owner


• Clean bathtub


• Clean toilet - I should probably not save this for last as it's my most hated chore in the house.


• Go fetch package, as DHL sucks as a delivery service. (I have to PICK UP my delivered package?? From their office? Kickass customer service there, guys. Job well done.)

I'm craving seitan steak, mashed potatoes, mushrooms in a cream sauce and a glass of wine. Where did I hide my personal Cook and Butler with all this cleaning? Has anyone seen Jeeves? I do miss my precious butler so. He usually lives quietly in the kitchen, chained to the table, but I can't find him anymore and I fear he may have gotten out.

And now, maybe I'll get some sleep. Since it's midnight and I'm goddamned tired. If not, I guess I can find comfort in the fact that my cat can sleep anywhere, anytime.

...Bitch.