What to say, what to say... hmmm.

Today I waxed my kitchen floor.

Aren't you excited? I'll take this time to remind you that YOU wanted me to blog.

Where was I?

I tried to do it yesterday but then The Man called and needed me to file some papers for him at work because some head office guy was coming down and the office was messy. Cool!

So when The Girl got home from school I told her she had a babysitting job and SHE WOULD BE PAID !woot woot! So we went over how to cook the macaroni for supper, and that the computer was off-limits because she had The Boy and Whiskey to watch (the DOG people, THE DOG!). Then I told The Boy that I was going to work. And he gave me the most confused look ever. I wish I had a video of it, it was that comical. Then he gave me a hug, which I never get unless I ask, and he made me go like "Awwwww".

Then I left.

And I blasted the radio on an awesome station on my way to the jobsite (after I turned off the ♪ I clap my hands like this *clap*clap*clap* I clap my hands like that *clap*clap* ♪ song) and went to 'work' with some real adults. Man, has it been a long time. In all it took us 3 hours of filing and some work to take home and we were done. Blessed employment, too bad I'm a volunteer.

So then I waxed the floor today. And the stuff smelled pretty, like fruity almost. Weird, very weird, and I felt bad for Whiskey (the DOG people, THE DOG!) that she had to stay home in her crate while the floor all around her dried, and then I thought hey, maybe that sweet fruity smell is actually the coverup for some serious mindbending drug-like hallucinations that are about to begin and damn that dog why can't I be in the crate!

Maybe the hallucinations had already started. Somedays it's hard to tell.

I came home later to check out the beauty of my waxed floor. Opened the door and was confronted with a triangle that EVADED WAX! Unacceptable and unbelievable! I made plans to fix that spot once The Boy had gone down for his nap, and then tragedy struck. The Boy dumped his entire glass of OJ on the floor during his lunch. The whole glass! Which he usually guards with his life like it's some sort of liquid ecstasy! Un-frigging-believable. At least the floor was freshly waxed and it was easy to clean up.

And the house still smells a little fruity, but the crate smells a little like Whiskey (the DOG people, THE DOG!)

And she keeps growling at me.

Maybe she's still hallucinating.

Or maybe she wants me to get out of her crate.