I received a huge package at work today. It was unexpected, according to my iPhone (I keep an ongoing list of things I am expecting in the mail on my phone because I am just that anal retentive), so that automatically made it exciting. Given my previous post whining about needing some fun and stimulation, I fervently hoped that this box would contain just the thing I needed to shake myself from this perpetual, confusing fog.
Unfortunately, things rarely work out the way I envision them:
It would seem that I have been fated to clean all weekend, instead of experiencing life at its fullest.
Still, the giant box of cleaning goods will come in handy. Sasha insists upon depositing horrible fluids all over our floor, and there are some questionable stains that I will attempt to remove with the help of those magic erasers.
I suppose this is pure karmic hilarity, though: I had a tantrum last week demanding, among other things, more magic in my life.
Very funny, universe.