You know, that room. The one where everything that doesn't have a place ends up. The room where things pile up until it approaches fire and health code violations.
Yeah, that one.
Around here it's the laundry room.
Well, no more. It had reached the point of making me insane and something inside me snapped.
Three loads of stuff marked "Free Stuff! Warning: May contain cat hair." have been laid along the road.
Two trash bags and one box full of trash are in the shed waiting for next trash pick up day.
Two loads of stuff have been carried up to the attic.
I've swept up enough kitty litter from under the dryer to supply the Charleston Animal Shelter for a year or two.
I've swept up enough cat and guinea pig hair to make several new pets.
I won't even begin to mention the GP turds.
I cleaned out the closet in there (yes, drool if you must, I have an 8' by 8' laundry room with a ginormous closet and built in shelves, why do you think it always becomes that room?). We now have one empty shelf, the vacuum cleaner put away, the steamer cleaner put away. One shelf for tools, one shelf for paint stuff (because I swear I am going to paint the ceilings....some day).
The floor has been swept, vacuumed and mopped within an inch of its life.
This room....is clean.
The boyz say: About time you quit clanging and banging and cussing. We're trying to watch Cat TV here.