The water problem corrected itself by the time I finished blogging about it. Now I could/should start cleaning.

Instead, I'm staring around my bedroom (how is it possible to spend three days cleaning out one room) in awe at the wreckage. I reassembled it yesterday evening so I could sleep on the bed, but today's efforts have created twice the chaos.

A bit later....

I have achieved shelves! I have achieved five shelves! Of varying sizes, yes, but all empty!

In the process, I dusted (Yes. Again. The R.C. was right. Having the place all opened up yesterday while I kicked up a lot of dust didn't mean the dust blew out the windows. It meant it settled on every surface again.) and cleaned baseboards as they were available.

Now I'm torn between running to the storage unit to recover some of the books I've had to leave in limbo and running to the bookstore to buy new books. (This is why The Great Clean-Out is an annual event.)

Much later....

Yesterday I rearranged books. Today I rearranged actual furniture as well. Now, the bedroom is done. Tidy, dusted, organized, and spacious.

At least, it's done if you don't look inside the closet. There's one pile o'stuff I just couldn't decide what to do with, so I shoved it into the chest that lives in the closet and told myself I'd worry about it another day. (Thus sowing the seeds of next year's Great Clean-Out.)

Now all I have to do is to make four trips to my car to load up all the stuff destined for Goodwill and that part of my Lady of Leisure To Do list is complete.

The bedroom. The room that I considered and laughingly assigned a mental two hours for when I was figuring what it would take to make this place actually tidy again.

Two minutes later....

I went to wash my hands and now I'm thinking, my god how did the bathroom get into such a filthy state?

This is a small apartment. Surely there has to come a point at which I declare it clean?

Maybe after I clean the bathroom and the kitchen, oil the woodwork, vacuum the living room (again), dust the living room (again) plant those Forget-Me-Not seeds the R.C. got at work yesterday, find a place for that planter to live, and figure out what do with the that one empty-and-yet-untidy empty shelf in the living room?

Then I'll have time to deal with the pile of Important Papers on the table in the bedroom and the pile of Important Papers on the table by my chair in the living room. (It will be nice to have a sit-down task.)

I think I'm changing my mind about the Joy of Leisure. I need to get a job so I can rest.

Also, I need food. My cupboard is relatively bare. There's some tuna salad in the refrigerator but I can't remember how long it's been there. Anyone know how long tuna salad will last in the refrigerator? I'm not sure my usual, "if it's not growing fungus, it's edible" refrigerator theory is really applicable to fish-based products. As near as I can figure, it's been ten or twelve days or so, so I put it in the trash. Just in case.

Fortunately I have both bread and cheese. If one has bread and cheese, one has a toasted cheese sandwich in their future, and that's a happy thought. (Mammoth Cave Aged Cheddar, courtesy, except not really because we paid for it, of Whole Foods. Mmmm.)

(That kitchen is just disgusting. Why doesn't someone clean it?)