No one is home today except for me. Hubby expected home tonight from Florida - yay - the cook returns.
So in his absence and with no one else knowing that I am home I decided to SCRUB the kitchen floor. I figured that it's good exercise, the floor is filthy, the grout is disgusting and I have never scrubbed this floor since we moved in. Our old house had yucky linoleum which I had to scrub all the time since it was not one of those wash-and-wear floors or whatever they are called.
( A little history; Before moving to this house. I had never lived in a new house. Only New York City apartments, Boston tenements and an antique house that had antique dust and dirt - so what the hell do I know about new...)
So I scrubbed on hands and knees - thinking that I would get into the zen of clean. no way - it really sucked - there is no zen to scrubbing the kitchen floor. It's just a job to get done.
But now the floor looks nice, I can rest easy and am going to the local pool with a trashy novel, a diet coke and a clean conscience. Other obsessions can wait.