The changes you find

When I lived at my old house, I was really lazy. I mean, I didn't do anything. I wasn't much into housework. I didn't do laundry. I hated cleaning.

I've been in my new place almost one month and this place is spotless. I clean it at least once a day. Clothes are put away. I hang up laundry the second it's done in the dryer.

I don't know why I wouldn't do these things when I was at my old house, but I do them here. I've been trying to figure that out.

I'm not sleeping all that well yet. I really wanted to go to bed an hour ago but I realized I didn't finish my laundry yet. I stayed in Morgantown an extra day, so Saturday night didn't end up being laundry night like I planned.

I tell you, it's a party a second here on Roundhill.

Homecoming was great. Morgantown is so different and it changes all the time. I remember with fondness the way it used to look and how things used to be, and I can see why people love it or hate it the way it is now. Every piece of spare land has an apartment building or a townhouse complex on it. There's more shopping there than you can wrap your mind around. Where I used to live is gone.

Morgantown's still got its charms, though. The Dairy Mart. Marris' store. The Beanery.

I really could get into a stromboli right now.

If only I didn't need to go to bed. If only I'd actually laid out the paper on Friday. Starting Monday in a deficit isn't the way to start a Monday. But here I am. In a total time deficit.

Lessons in Humility (Vol. 1)

Wednesday's trash day in my new neighborhood, so rather than get up 15 minutes earlier, I just get the trash together on Tuesday night. Tonight, I just finished cleaning out Inky's litter box when I put it on the ledge of the sink, turned my back and ...

Heard a thud.

The entire contents of the clean litter box were on the floor. I'm talking like two pounds of unused Tidy Cat For Small Spaces on the tile floor.

At this point, all I could do is stare. After a good 15 seconds, I started cleanup. I scooped most of it up with the dustpan, but then I broke out the DustBuster to get the rest. (Pilgrim voyage of the DustBuster!!)

I learned three things:

1. Just leave the f-ing cat box on the floor. Don't pick it up because you think sitting it on the edge of the sink will be more efficient.

2. The DustBuster is probably not intended to pick up all of that clay ... or whatever it is they make litter with.

3. When faced with laugh or cry, laugh. Because I know it may be hard to picture, but two pounds or so of cat litter scattered EVERYWHERE on your kitchen floor, after all, is very funny.