Helaine’s out-of-town for a few days. It’s very quiet here.
I am very surprised how much more efficient I am at amassing a mess when she’s not around, even though I’m not sure how I do it!
The mail, which I was asked to leave in a provided plastic bag, is piled on the kitchen counter. The newspapers are piled, one upon the other, on the kitchen table.
I have thumbed through the Times each day, but the New Haven Register has only had its cover perused. Sorry inside advertisers.
Knowing I’m an organizational nightmare, Helaine left “oatmeal kits” – literally pre-measured bags of oatmeal! Still, when I went to cook my oatmeal this morning, the first step was to wash out yesterday’s pot and escort yesterday’s dish from the sink to the dishwasher.
Some things never change, I suppose.
I went to work yesterday leaving the stove on! It was on low. Still.
The pills I take on a daily basis are in one of those little compartmentalized plastic holders (which in the absence of a drivers license can be used to qualify for any senior citizen discount). I’ve been good with the pills, but only because I remember what happened when I wasn’t taking my antihistamine.
I am off work tomorrow, so I plan on doing the wash and straightening up… or, possibly, not. I have some friends coming over tomorrow night. The downstairs will be presentable. That’s a given. And, even if it’s a mad dash to the finish, everything will be fine when Helaine returns.
Before she left, Helaine pre-positioned snacks. No shopping necessary. They’re the Hershey’s equivalent of M&Ms, but in order to make sure they’d be here for my guests, Helaine has hidden them. Where they are is on a need to know basis. I currently don’t have the proper clearance.
This is trash night. I could take the cans out now, but tonight (when there’s the chance of rain) is when I’ll do it.
I’ve always firmly believed it is correct to put off anything, with the thought the world could end between now and when the project is due. Unfortunately, this is the kind of dominant trait passed from father to child. My bad.
Helaine is only gone a few days and look where I am already. Imagine what I was like as a bachelor? Good lord!
I had a ketchup bottle stuck to my kitchen table and science projects growing in the bathroom.
If left to my own devices, like most men, I’d revert to my caveman concept of neat and clean. Why don’t we ever really grow up?