Git ur kleen on

Thank the Lawd I was able to take half of Friday to just go home and lay down and rest.  My coldy-flu mild-sinusy-drippy-octopus-clinging-to-the-back-of-my-throat-super-tired-achy-back-muscles got worse and I spent all of Saturday laying around in my plaid fleece robe and Hello Kitty pajamas, changing only briefly to go turn in some library books that I couldn't renew and run by the vet to pick up some special cat food for Hazel.  Guy has the same funk I have, but he's had it for a few days before I came down with it.  Worse for him, he's had a crazy workweek and wasn't able to stay home, plus his pool team made the playoffs and he had to play Friday and Saturday, so he really didn't get to rest until Saturday evening.  We spent the evening sneezing, coughing, clearing our throats, rasping at each other, and laying around in fleece blankets.  Happy Valentine's Day to us.

This morning, we awoke to feel way better.  We still have the throat funk and are kinda tired, but we felt good enough to roll out of bed, put on underwear*, and walk to our favorite brunch spot.  Guy was going to go into work today, but right now he's asleep on the futon next to me.  I actually got the urge to clean something today.  I swiffed and swept the house, which made me feel better.  That might be all I do for now, as I can tell I still need to rest some more to fully get over this funk.  As I worked my way over the floors in my 1,250sf condo, I could tell my throat was a little dry and I almost felt short of breath.  Confession: when I came home sick Friday afternoon, I called my mom.  She told me what to drink and eat and told me that this was a cosmic sign that I need to slow down and get some rest.

I'm taking tomorrow off, so I can do some laundry and more tidying up and well as some writing.  But the cleaning thing, I'm actually kinda looking forward to.  Those who have known me for a long time would tell you that I've always been a clean freak.  My room was always pretty straightened up, though I always seemed to have a lot of stuff on my dresser.  But you could see the floor, and in the Goode household that meant clean.  I generally swiff the house once a week and wipe the kitchen counters as I work, not just when I'm done cooking.  Hell, when I go to my sister's house, I'm cleaning.  I get a certain amount of satisfaction out of cleaning and purging my possessions. I've even learned to enjoy laundry.  

What I've been putting off going through is my closet.  I really, really, really need to clean out my closet.  I know I've got clothes and shoes and scarfs in there I haven't worn in a while, and they need to go.  (Yes, Kitty, some of these will be slung your way--it may be that I'm waiting to do this cleaning until you get here on March 5th.)  More than the time that will be involved in doing so, I think the biggest reason I haven't cleaned yet is that I'll have to come face to face with clothing that have major emotional connections for me.  The "Erin Brockovich" top and skirt that I wore to woo Guy, and that looked so damn good on me.  The brown plaid flannel shirt Mom made me during college that I wore for four years straight and got two degrees in--the Zap-A-Gap stains and ripped seams where the hem caught on my desk in Professor Clark's studio.  The top and skirt I wore to elope in Vegas before God and Gold Lame Elvis (and the chapel webcam, which Kitty and Mom and several other relatives watched us on).

Which reminds me: next Wednesday is Guy's and my 4-year wedding anniversary.  We're heading back again to Vegasbaby this Friday through Monday, and we're hoping for a better trip than last year.  I told Guy that since we're sick now, maybe we won't be ill for our anniversary.  [grand sweeping arm gesture] Orange juice for all my troops!

*We also wore pants.