What a confounded darn day! I stayed up two hours past my bedtime watching TV last night, so I woke up drowsy and cranky. I downed a serving of Redline to fix that little issue.
After the dogs and I got home from our walk and I'd taken a shower and cleaned the kitchen and all that jazz, I decided to make my husband cookies, so I gather up all the mats and set them on the counter and start reading through the instructions. Well, turns out that the eggs are supposed to be room temperature and mine are refrigerated. So I left them out and went to do other things until they warmed up.
I did all the laundry, yoinked the sheets up off the bed and tossed them in the wash too (I wash and change them at least once a week, I can't stand it otherwise) and vacuumed all the floors. I got done putting a new set of sheets on the bed (not new as in just bought, new as in freshly laundered) and vacuuming the bedroom, Pixel jumped up on my bed and puked on it. She puked on the sheets, down the side, and onto my newly vacuumed floor. You know how dogs go herk-herk-herk-arf when they puke? So you have a bit of warning? She didn't. She just arfed it up out of the blue.
So I pulled the new sheets off the bed, it had dampened the mattress cover as well so I pulled that up before it reached the mattress. I put all that in the wash, cleaned up the floor, and re-vacuumed it with a shampooer instead of my regular vacuum.
Left it, went to do the cookies, had waited so long to do the cookies that I didn't have time to make dinner before my husband got home. Darn!
So I'm scrambling about the kitchen trying to make cookies and homemade sloppy joes, I need a cup of ketchup, I only have about half a cup. I also forgot to take the hamburger buns out of the freezer so they aren't thawed.
I have two loads of dirty puke laundry going, the cookies, the sloppy joes, my husband is finding all my fluttering about like a madwoman just hilarious, my dogs are confused,
AND THEN
I dropped my plastic jug of flour on the floor. Flour
everywhere and my jug is broken! And I swept it up but I didn't have time to mop and I hate that, my floor isn't clean until it's been mopped, I swear no matter how many times I sweep it I can still feel flour under my toes.
Now my husband, chuckling all the way, has left to go get me more ketchup and hamburger buns, so I can't do anything more until he gets home with that.
Go away, Case of the Mondays!