Day 2505

My Dad was an accomplished scientist. He wrote books and was well regarded by his peers. None of this prevented him from being sucked into financially disastrous telemarketing scams or becoming a hopeless hoarder as he grew older. Many of my friends are dealing with aging parents who have similar problems. Falling victim to financial scams and living in impossibly cluttered homes seem to be common themes. When I do my Sunday chores, I often hope that I don't go down the same rabbit hole. The warning signs are already there. How did the house ever get this messy? I spent the first half of my life living with a Zen like clarity, and now look at me. There is so much clutter in my office now that even the dogs have trouble navigating this no-man's land.

I try to straighten and clean on Sunday, but it hardly seems worth the effort. Fall is just beginning and already the backyard is filled with leaves. Spiders are industriously rebuilding elaborate webs in the windows I cleaned just a week or two ago, and dog hair is everywhere. The house was much easier to clean before it became filled with throw rugs to keep Dot from slipping on the brick floors. By the time I clean all these rugs and wash dozens of dirty dog blankets, I've usually had enough. I make the bed every day, but I'm lucky if I clean the office once a year. I used to move excess clutter from the office to the storage warehouse regularly, but now both spaces are full. Winter coats don't fit in the closet anymore. Bookshelves are overflowing with dusty books and obsolete software boxes. Broken watches litter my desk. I'm having a hard time even keeping up with reading my mail. All of this is discouraging, because when I'm being objective about things, I realize that I'm only three or four years away from becoming my Dad.

I made an honest effort today. I didn't just vacuum the floors. I even used the attachments to remove the dust from windowsills and floorboards. It's discouraging to clean up Dot's space and spread fresh blankets on the floor, only to have her poop on them ten minutes later. That's life with an incontinent dog though. You just have to be patient and keep cleaning things over and over again.

If I did this everyday, I'd be in great shape. I typically take between 16,000 and 20,000 steps on Sunday. Dash usually takes a much longer walk on Sunday.  I almost always go to the gym as well. Throw in mowing the grass and pushing the heavy Dyson Animal around the house and you've got a very busy day. Would my time have been better spent lying in bed and watching a movie on Netflix? Who knows?

The shower stall seemed dry today, so I thought I'd try to reseal the corners with silicon again. The repairs didn't work the first time I tried this, but there's always hope. This means I won't be able to take a shower until the silicon dries. I'm too tired to care. Despite all the physical activity, it was a good day. The weather was fabulous. Dot seemed a little stronger than usual. Dash got a bath and smells good for a change. Janet fixed some delicious Chicken Parmesan for dinner, and it looks like the bananas for tomorrow's breakfast are ripening nicely.

Early voting starts tomorrow in Texas. I'm still trying to decide when the lines will be the smallest.

Freckles is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day