June 26

Two days of straight cleaning and I'm not even finished the kitchen yet. So far I have encountered about 60 years of dirt and grime, a bit of mouse shit, and a newfound love of Scotch-brite pads. I can also feel my right arm quickly growing larger from all of the scrubbing I've been doing. My scrubbing muscles would make my momma proud.

I'm a little worried about getting all this cleaning done in a reasonable amount of time and so far my bedroom is the last on the list of things to do. Considering, as of July 1st, I will have nowhere else to sleep I would like to have my bedroom put together. Or at least the bed. But I still have to finish the kitchen and start the bathroom, find some place to put all of the crap that's presently in my bedroom and paint my bedroom walls. It's discouraging because every project that we start opens up a whole new can of worms and a job that should only have taken an hour takes a day.

Oh well, I guess that's what we get for wanting a fixer-upper.

Anyway, my finger tips are sore from all of my cleaning and each button I press causes little sharp pains to shoot up my hand. So I'm going to stop typing.

Love you all, etc., etc.
xoxo