Cleaning at sunrise

Thanks for suggesting books! I have checked out copies of The Devil Wears Prada, My Name is Asher Lev, and Lake Woebegone: Summer 1956. Since I am driving, I can take as many books as I want to the beach without repercussions (except using more gas – I just filled up my car for $26.50. I have never spent that much to fill up my car before. Good thing I didn’t check out Anna Karenina or something)! I placed holds on a few of the others, but they didn’t make it here in time, so they’ll be kept in the queue for the next book emergency.

This morning I got up about 30 minutes early because I needed to finish packing and make sure I had everything for my trip, since I’m not stopping back by the house before I hit the road. The only thing I have realized that I forgot (so far) were some pictures I wanted to show my friend from the wedding we were in a few weeks ago. Not the worst thing to forget, so I feel good.

This morning I realized that I am compulsively weird when getting ready for a trip. I did my last-minute packing and printing out the directions and getting quarters for the parking meters at the beach and all that kind of thing . . . and then I cleaned the kitchen. The sun is barely up, and I am standing there in my pajamas scrubbing our flat-top stove. Do you know why? It’s because Mike mentioned after we went to bed last night that Brian might be coming over to hang out and play X-Box this weekend. Do you think Brian is going to notice my stove? Yeah, I don’t either (but he’d better after reading this!). Nor do I think he would have really cared if I had left some unfolded clothes on the floor upstairs just outside of the laundry room. But just in case he would have, I stuffed them all back into the dryer. Unfortunately, I guess mentioning that I did it kind of negates the whole process. (Brian, don’t look in the dryer when you’re there!) I also put away a few dishes and cleaned off the kitchen table and made the bed (well, I usually do that last one every morning anyway). The house wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t perfectly straight, either. So, since I was going out of town, what did I do? I became my mother for 30 minutes and cleaned. Which, of course, made me five minutes late for work, since I still had some packing to do. However, I did get a sense of satisfaction when I walked out the kitchen on my way to work. At least my queendom is clean.

Any guesses as to how it will look after Mike’s weekend of bachelorhood? (It’s probably a good thing I got that last perfect look before I left.)

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