Clean and Dirty

My desk is clean! I would take a picture to show you, but my digital camera is dead. You already knew that. I spent hours and hours and hours yesterday and today sorting through every blasted piece of paper piled on there. I filed some of it but trashed tons. Still need to clean the piles of children's artwork stacked up all around my office. I have half a mind to trash it all. There's a huge backlog of Mac magazines to go through in my spare time whenever. They'll have to wait until the Jeopardy trip is over.

My laundry needs some serious attention, but apparently less so than the boys' rooms. AGAIN! Damnitalltohell. I spent days and days in their rooms digging everything out and putting everything away, and they trashed them. Pulled all the towels out of the linen closet, messed up the bathroom, food and candy wrappers everywhere. Wild Thing tried to pull a nightlight out of a socket in his room and pulled the whole freakin' faceplate off the outlet. WTF?! I should have suspected the pigpen when WT lost one shoe (+ one expensive orthotic) for a couple of days. They all claimed to have looked for hours today, but no one could find it. They all lied through their teeth about how clean their rooms were. I'm so pissed off at them, especially Wizard. He is a manipulative, conniving, overgrown toddler.

I'm trying to get organized and study and be prepared for the biggest opportunity of my life, and my husband is bitching that I need to go upstairs and inspect the boys' rooms daily. Hello? I feed them, bathe them, wash their clothes, entertain them, and chauffeur them everywhere. I do not feel like policing the upstairs. That was always WineGuy's job: he would put them to bed each night and check on their rooms. He no longer puts them to bed – because he says they're old enough to go to sleep on their own – and he never climbs the stairs anymore. Too damn lazy, IMVHO.

Frazzled again.