Why is it that when the weekend arrives, it seems to go faster than the week? One minute your out partying, having fun, shopping etc, next minute it's Sunday, the shops are shut and you stuck inside wondering what to do?
Sunday's seem to always go way too fast... Before you know it, it's the afternoon, then night and you're off to bed ready to face the working week once again.. Has noone told Sunday that it's meant to take it slow???
Today, I've got to clean the house.. Mother's they always surprise visit you, just when the house looks like the Tazmanian Devil went through it three or four times...
Have got the skip, the garbage bags all at the ready, now just gotta find the motivation to start.
It's always the way, you look at the clutter and then sit back down to ponder which part you will start with first. Only problem is make a coffee, grab your laptop and the clutter sits and looks at you, until eventually it's too late to get started.. Or is that just me?? with the "I'll do it tomorrow" sentence...
Thankfully it's not too hot today, and there's a breeze coming through, so I can put the dogs outside, so as not to run them over with the vacuum..
Oh to be Samantha, twitch my nose and have it all done for me.. Wouldn't that just be awesome. Think of all the time and hard work you would save?
As always, the other part of the house, has gone out for the day, meaning cleaning is down to you, and you alone.. Have thought about teaching my dogs to do it, but at present they don't seem that interested. Just running through the mess on the floor..
Ah Sunday, the day of running around cleaning, pulling your hair out and wishing Monday would never come...
