Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Did Martha Stewart Decorate her Cell?
I've been a little sidetracked. We're putting our house on the market this week and it's a hellavalota work. I'll catch up on everyone's blogs, comments, and postings after Friday when we (and that's the royal We) can breathe a sigh of relief. For about 20 minutes, then we'll have to keep our house clean until it sells.
I'll be like Joan Crawford meets Martha Stewart. Following my children around the house with a long wooden spoon "Clean Up That Sock!! Flush that Toilet!! Don't touch That!!" My eyes will be red and glazed. My bangs will be fuzzy and weird. My toenail polish will be chipped. I'll be a mess.
I'm trying to have all the spiritual good thoughts and prayers for a nice family to move in and make my old neighbors happy. I meditate that everything will be fair and just and honest. But then I get yanked by the ankle down into the well of Selfish Thoughts and I don't care who moves in, just as long as I get my money. I said "my" but it's not. It's ours. I'm selfish in the purist sense. For instance, when I take people to the new house, I show them "my" kitchen and "my" bedroom. The curse of a spoiled child all grown-up and trying to be a wife and mother.
Just a couple more days ...