Monday, Monday...

Bah, baaah, bah, bah-bah-bah, looks good to me... 

Sure, with the curtains drawn, the lights off, and me treading water in the soft, warm currents of prescription drugs.

But they're not and I'm not, so BUGGER OFF! Monday*, you can't be trusted.  The Mamas & The Papas say so, and I ain't gonna argue with Mama Cass because 1) she's dead, and 2) she is (appropriately) morbidly obese.  I wouldn't want her falling on me from a height trying to eat my brains is all I'm saying.

I never realised until today that I live in a hovel. 

I mean, you'd think I'd have noticed before now — the muddy fingerprints on the living room door from children who find using a towel just too challenging, the corner of the ceiling working a stole of green mould, a stench of death leaking from somewhere under the bath, dog fur and cat dander tumbleweeds rolling forlornly across open spaces in hope of coming across an allergic reaction...

I am clearly a housewifely SLUT of the first order,

and while I'm sanguine about sharing my failings with you, it's on the presumption that none of you is a prospective purchaser.  I've postponed the valuer, and I've now got until Friday to divert a river through my front room and dry it all off after.

CURSES, Location, Location, Location with Kirsty and Phil  tutting and arm-slapping like some dangerous experiment in mixed-class marriage; BOO-HISS, Kevin McCloud and your immaculate 'contemporary living spaces'!  You lot have raised the bar so high, waving a duster around a can of Mr Sheen is no longer enough  — I need oxygen and crampons just to get to base camp.

The more I look around my house the clearer it becomes that what my house really needs is not a bloody good scrub, but a

tossed inside and the doors closed.

I have spent the entire day trying to second-guess somebody else's idea of their dream home as I dismantle my own.  I'm tired, aching, grumpy, and covered in paint, and face the prospect of doing it all again tomorrow.  And the next day.  And the one after. 

I repeat.  How come I NEVER noticed before?! 

Then once I finish with the house, I have to make a start on the garden...

*#buggeroffmondays — a welcome antidote to Twitter's  #followfridays.