If you didn't believe that I was crazy before, here's proof...

I absolutely love to clean. I know. I have a disorder. My mom is a special ed teacher. She diagnosed me ages ago. I've been called everything from crazy to OCD. But it's part of my charm. I wouldn't be me if I didn't obsessively clean everything. And organize. And color coordinate my closet. And my shoes. (Do you get the idea?) But I've come to learn that all chores are not created equal. Only a true clean freak knows this. Most people dislike vacuuming as much as they dislike cleaning the toilet. 

Remember how I think dusting is a waste of time? Because it is. 

As much as I love to clean, by far and away, my most favorite chore to do is laundry. There's something soothing about sorting, folding and putting my clothes away. I usually put on a movie (today I did a John Hughes marathon. I needed a little Some Kind of Wonderful and Pretty in Pink in my life) and fold to my heart's content. I usually save my laundry for when I've had a bad day because it puts me in an excellent mood. Today, I was already having a fantastic day. Indulge me while I tell you about it:

-I was early to work

-Rain anyone?

-Actual work to do in the office

-Football season is upon us!
-Finally getting to talk to my friend Jourdan who has been in Europe all summer, who is also coming home in less than a week!

-Lunch with my darlingly pregnant Whitney (who honestly is one of the cutest pregnant girls that I've ever seen. And I'm not biased.)

-A little more rain

-Laundry

-John Hughes

-Dinner with Liz at CKP

-Diet Coke with Lime

-Book shopping with Liz and Barnes and Noble (I bought Macbeth and Tale of Two Cities)

-2 days until Shakespeare Festival and the delight that is Macbeth

See what I mean? How could anyone have a bad day after all that? And laundry just made it that much better. 

Life is good.

Certain Things in Life are Utterly Pointless...

It's true. Like when I put perfume on before I go to bed. That's pointless. It's my own obsessiveness which moves me to do it. One thing that I decided this very afternoon that is utterly pointless is dusting. I have all black furniture in my bedroom; and if you're not aware, black furniture collects dust in a more noticeable manner then other colored furniture. Lots and lots of it. I finally got sick of looking at it (and I'm stressed because of finals and I have an obsessive tendency to clean when I'm stressed) so I decided to get a damp rag and clean it up. As I was going about my business, I noticed that even though my rag was nice and damp, there was still a considerable amount of dust in the air which not only made me sneeze but made its merry way back down to my black bookshelves.  So I ask you, dear friends. What's the point?! I painstakingly cleaned each shelf in my room, yet tomorrow I will come home after watching Chuck with my dearest Megan friend and my shelves will once again be covered in dust. 

My Little Corner of the World...

So I realized that I've lived in Salt Lake for a long time and I haven't posted any pictures of my room. And since I just cleaned it (and did my laundry) I figured that it was a good time. :) Without further ado...

I know there's some clothes on the floor, but I'm going to admit right here that I'm still in 4th grade and sometimes I lay out my clothes for school the night before. :) Mock if you must. Karlie does. I'll leave you with one last picture... a slightly scary one of yours truly...

"My feelings show..."

So, I was sitting here in my kitchen, cleaning up after dinner and the kids and mess and all that fun stuff that comes when both your parents work and have no time and you're the oldest, while listening to Colbie Caillat. She got popular while I was on my mission, so I'm just getting to the point with her CD where I listen to it all the time because I'm not yet sick of any of it. She has a song called "Feelings Show" that I really like. It got me to thinking about that whole concept of feelings and how some people are so easy to read, like an open large print book and others are much more difficult to understand, like trying to read Rousseau in it's original French when you only speak Spanish. I tend toward the large print. I struggle hiding my feelings, they seem to play across my face, whether or not I want those around me to know what's going through my head. My face shows it all, if I'm annoyed, happy, sad, depressed, frustrated, upset, tired, bored, ready to kill someone, disbelieving...you name it. I would love to find a way to stop the constant flow of emotion on the stage that is my face, to conceal SOMETHING! ANYTHING! from those around me. But alas, it is not to be.How fortunate for everyone else. The only solution that I've thought of for this predicament is walking around with a paper bag on my head all the time, though there are a few problems with this. Number one: It can get really hot inside a paper bag. Number 2: What if the carefully cut eye holes shifted while I was driving and I got in an accident? Not good. Number 3: It would get all scratchy on my neck. Number 4: I HATE when things touch my face Number 5 (and this is the last one, promise) It would mess up my hair. :) So I suppose there's not much I can really do, I guess I'll just live with it, like I have for the past 22.85 years...