Footnote #2 To: Crown Me "The Queen Of Clutter"

Fatigued, exhausted, lethargic, weary, tuckered out, worn out, drained, spent, dog-tired, listless, pooped, I'm the walking dead. . . . . . I'm fading . . . . .


I have never in my entire life been so absolutely (all of the above) and aching from head to toe. My back hurts, my legs hurt, my neck is killing me. I think I overdid this obsessive cleaning today.

I'm happy to announce that Mimi's room is A+. I'm so excited. I worked for 7 hours today on my Christmas closet and in Mimi's room. I made several trips to the attic (and, yes, I put things exactly in their zones and it's still looking great). I made one trip to Goodwill and the car is already pretty full with more stuff. I've practically filled both of our large trash cans outside. And I still have to work in the dreaded computer/guest bedroom, my closet and my large dining room. I inherited Mimi's very large dining room suite as well as tons of her glassware. That room alone will take me an entire day. I need to wash every single piece of china and glass plus filter through and donate/throw away. The list goes on and on. But I've made tremendous progress. Hip, hip, hooray.

This is very random. When I wrote earlier the term "the walking dead", it reminded me of something funny that I say to Tom. There is a radio station that plays very low-key Christian music. I listen to it when I need to relax. Except I don't listen at noon and 9pm. During those times the station plays recorded sermons from some oriental-sounding guy named Witness Lee. Besides the fact that he's very difficult to understand with his strong accent, he's been dead for years. I refuse to listen. Not really b/c he's dead, but b/c I can't understand a word he's saying. Every time the radio is on and he begins to talk, I scream "Turn the station . . . Dead Man Talking!!!!"

Now I'm going to rest in my comfortable bed. Nighty, night.