My house would be cleaned. Twice a week. Dinner on the table every night. All the laundry washed, fluffed and folded. (Fluffed?) The house would be dusted and redusted. And, if necessary, redusted again. Not that it ever gets dirty ... The pets would be fed, watered and cleaned. The grass would be mowed. The ashes cleaned out of the fireplace (yes, they've been there quite awhile), the shoes all put away, the kitchen floors mopped ... heck, I even had plans for my attic being cleaned out. And I have THREE attics. There's too much stuff in the garage and I have a massive garage sale planned. THIS WEEKEND! This just barely taps into the list that I had designed for my dear, darling daughter. Yes, I now had an
And although she wanted a job, with my list here, there just wasn't going to be time for such frivolity. But my daughter would still dream about a wonderful job where she would earn lots of money and earn her keep here at home and pay us back for all the gas tanks we filled and all the cell phone bills we paid and all of the food we poured into her and all of the glad rags we put on her back. Yeah, glad rags. That's a 50's term. I'm much too young to recall it myself. Shut up.
So, anyway. The best laid plans. Isn't that how it always goes? Well, the best laid plans that I made anyway. Liz' dreams always come true.
My daughter has been in town for five days. FIVE DAYS. And that's exactly how long it took for her to be HANDED A JOB. A well-paying job, five days a week, 8 - 5 everyday. Monday through Friday. Full time. Her own office. I'm breathless it all happened so fast.
I'd be happy for her ... if I hadn't just lost my housekeeper-launderer-cook-pet sitter-gardener-garage sale attendant ... and ... chimney sweep.
So ... uh ... what's next?
Yes, I shall cook, clean, sweep, wash, dry, feed, water and brush ... and still manage to have an amazing garage sale this weekend.
But I don't do chimneys. Just not gonna' happen.
Chim chiminey, chim chiminey, chim chim cheroo ...
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