Today is my day off. As of late, I have been trying to do productive things on my day off. Run errands, shop, visit things I've always wanted to see. But, today, I'm just being lazy and it feels absolutely lovely.

I have the apartment all to myself this weekend. As the sister is gone up north, spending her days strapped to thin pieces of wood hurtling down mountains. Ah. Such fun.

She normally feels quite guilty if I clean by myself on my day off so she insists I go do something fun. But the funk has started to build up. The dirty clothes heap is growing higher. Everything looking a little dingier. I slept until noon, ate cold pizza for breakfast and the started rumbling about in my pajamas. I've cleaned furiously. Scrubbing, bleaching, straightening, sorting, tossing. I love it. An occasional day to remind myself I still know how to clean and I still enjoy it.

I am by no means finished. I'm pulling out all my neurotic cleaning idiosyncrasies I thought I had long banished. (I once actually waxed the front of the microwave to make it shine more.) To really kick that whole memory lane experience into high gear, I pulled out a few old mixed CD's.
Sweet memories.

Even though I have to work tomorrow, this feels like vacation. A vacation where I can remind myself how much fun work can be. I forget this sometimes. Too busy skinning babies and clubbing seals, you know.