H is for Housework

Since I've been a trifle busy (read: running around madly trying to stay afloat) lately, it was high time I got down to some good old domestic duties. To that end, I spent much of the day engaged in housework types of activities.

I mowed the lawn, albeit half-heartedly and therefore none too well.

I did a few loads of laundry.

I cleaned the bathroom top to bottom, though I really started with the bottom.

I tidied, dusted, and vacuumed the bedroom, putting away a whole-lotta laundry that was just waiting there to be dealt with.

I started working downstairs in the living room, too.

If all goes well, this weekend will see a continuation of home improvements, including the repair of a small hole in the living room ceiling and even painting of the living room! Yahoo!

Of course, after all of that menial housework, I was due for a reward, so I was off to my friend Monica's for a lovely dinner gathering. Among the guests was a professor of mine from back in the day. Amusingly enough, it was well into dinner and into a lengthy conversation about the school, the professors there, and my behavioural ... well ... behaviour when suddenly it clicked that INDEED she HAD been one of my professors. Of course, that came after a number of amusing stories about the ways I'd viewed several professors, so she was likely feeling rather frightened to know what I had thought of her! Luckily, I had only positive memories of being in her class, and was able to honestly confess that I HAD done the readings for her course.

A good time was had by all (as far as I could discern).