We got home from a Memorial Day camping trip (which I'm sure is worthy of a blog post of its own) to a relatively clean house. At least the sink was clean. I'm sure of this because we have ants and I have issues with ants, so I wanted the "ant area" to be as clean as possible, except for the poison I left in hopes of killing the little suckers (which I now suspect is acting as a homing beacon for all the ants of my neighborhood). Anyway, the sink was clean.
But the clean sink did little to compensate for the 2 van loads of crap we brought in and laid, well, everywhere. Our kitchen island (9'x3') was covered in a 2 ft layer of camping gear and food waiting to be put away, not to mention the floor of two rooms. We managed to get the sleeping bags and pillows and dirty laundry to the appropriate places, ate supper without really cleaning it up, bathed or showered all the humans, and fell into bed (did I mention it was tent camping?).
I was feeling old and fat and pathetic after the camping. Air mattress. But I was thinking I just needed a night in my own bed. It would have also helped if a certain baby would sleep past 5:30 some morning. He didn't. I started yesterday feeling horrible, tried to work towards conquering the mess, and maybe around 10 took my temperature. What'd'ya know, I had an actual fever. So I spent most of the day lying on a couch or bed or in the bathtub watching full episodes of Cupcake Wars on Youtube.
I've decided that the definition of when I am sick is when I feel lousy enough to not care at all how much of a bind I am putting my husband in by making him take care of the needy masses when he had work to do and needed to go to bed early because he had a midnight meeting to attend (not a cult, a production release - he's a computer geek and they do important stuff at night so it doesn't take down the system, or something like that). Didn't care. I was sick.
Meanwhile . . .
I got up this morning feeling much better. I actually got dressed. Dealt with the babies, diapers, cereal. But, alas, the kitchen sink. Both sinks full and several inches above sink level full of all the dishes of yesterday. Could we have used all those dishes yesterday? Wash clothes down in the sink and one hanging over the edge (with an entire colony of ants hiding under it - I said I don't like ants, right?!) I would have thought I was gone a weekend or longer. It was impressive. I kept telling myself, it was only a day, it was only a day. A washcloth couldn't have gone rancid in a day.
Ok, most of what I'm feeling is overwhelmed by all of the dirty clothes and camping gear and general whiny pathetic-ness of post road trip depression. But oh what a difference a clean ant-free sink makes to a girl's ability to cope.
