I realized that all these years, I had been dreading a giant toad, lurking offshore, waiting to suck me under and drag me out to sea.
I realize I haven’t posted in over a month.
I also realize that my very last post was lamenting some bad news about a house that I wanted but we didn’t get.
I will now admit that I was doing that thing where I take the high road and try to convince myself that everything is just the way it is supposed to be and I was forcing myself to pretend like I was walking in the direction of acceptance.
I’ve come to the point where achievement of just one task in a day is truly something upon which I can hang my hat. I’m a slightly obsessive vacuum-er. What can I say, I like a lint free floor, and when running the Bissell Versus (stupidest invention this side of 2009) takes half the time of sweeping, I’m not above busting that thing out once or twice a day.
Normally, it would bother me that my floors are this dirty. But today’s task was huge, even by non-pregnancy proportions, so Saturday morning’s bagel crumbs will simply have to wait. Today, I tackled the seasonal closet clothes swap.
The UnderToad 