The Post That Rambles All The Way To Nowhere

I've spent the last couple days in sort of a general fog and funk - it's what happens to me when I stay in the house for more than 24 hours straight. The irony, of course, is that once I have been home for 24 hours straight, I sort of never want to leave. Is there a personality type called "circumstantial extrovert"? Because I think that's me.

Yesterday I didn't get out of my pajamas at all, though I did clean the house and wash clothes and take care of my "chores." So at least I haven't been unproductive. I've just had too many nights in a row with not enough sleep and too many days of busy-ness when awake. I believe that's what the experts refer to as "life." And yesterday, life caught up with me. As Diane would say, I was TARD.

Then last night I was fixing supper, and I decided to bake potatoes differently than I normally do - all because of something I saw on Food Network (note: when I'm in fog and funk mode, my television doesn't budge from HGTV or Food Network unless something REALLLLY special is happening on another channel, like, say, the "Project Runway" casting special, but that's another post for another time). Anyway, my fancy new potato cooking method caused my entire house to smell like Old Burned Oil, which left me slightly out of sorts because I had spent the whole day cleaning, and THIS was my reward? To be trapped in Old Burned Oil House? With nary a hint of April freshness?

So finally around 11 last night I just got in the bed, which prompted David to look at me and say, "Um. What are you doing?" Keep in mind that I am Official Night Owl in these parts, and I don't go to bed before midnight if I can help it.

My reply? "I've had enough."

So today I got up to a house that still smelled of Old Burned Oil, at least until Alex's breakfast was ready, at which point the house's smell magically transformed into Old Burned Oily Waffle With Syrup. And this was before Alex had an accident in his big boy underwear, but I can't talk about that right now or I'll throw up. And really, I'd rather not add that to my plethora of olfactory sensations (don't all these delighful smells sound like a recipe for some exclusive air freshener? to be sold in specialty boutiques nationwide?).

ANYWAY, after lunch David took Alex to run a few errands (ah, the perks of a husband who works from home - perks for which I will be forever thankful), and I decided to, you know, bathe. And change out of the pajamas that I'd had on since SUNDAY NIGHT (I'm hoping you won't be appalled - surely you've been in the same boat at some point or another - but if you haven't, please don't judge me, I beg you).

A bath! Even though I didn't have anywhere to go!

So when David and Alex got home just a little bit ago, David said, "OH! Did you take a bath?" Apparently the very notion that I had Chosen Cleanliness was surprising to him, given the fact that I had seemed pretty content to be in a foul mood and wear the same hot pink tie-dyed t-shirt for the last 36 hours. I was proud to tell him that yes, I had in fact bathed - and felt much better as a result. Clean helps, you know.

And an olive oil and coriander candle that Emma Kate's sister gave me helps, too. Because the Old Burned Oil smell seems to be fading. Of course, it's being overshadowed by the smell of Hot Boiling Chicken, but the candle has definitely helped. In case you were wondering.

And I feel like my regular extroverted self again. But I'm soooo getting out of the house tomorrow.

So how are y'all?