There's a lot to be said about the pleasure of sleeping in on the weekends. However, as walking has proved more effort than I am willing to expend this weekend due to the injury I incurred in the beginning hours of Thursday, I've been going to bed early and waking up equally as early. Waking up at 8:30 AM on a Sunday morning gives you a whole lot of time that I am frankly just not accustom to having. While I was going to the bathroom at 8:30AM on Sunday, I noticed how dirty the sink was. So I cleaned it (clearly I'm usually too busy to see that, but early on Sunday, it's totally obvious). Then I went downstairs -- had a mild flashback to trying to get down them on my butt in the late hours of Wednesday -- and noticed how much animal hair was on the steps (not to name names or anything, Sam and Bessie). So I vacuumed them. And since the vacuum was already in-hand, I vacuumed the hallways and rest of the rooms as well.

When I went to go clean out the vacuum, I noticed the trash was full. Now's a good time to take that out. And oh what,  let me grab that box of trash from the bottom of the stairs that has been sitting there for three months.

When I was putting the vacuum away in the pantry, I noticed we had a pile of toilet paper, which I knew would serve a better purpose being stored in the bathroom. So I brought it upstairs. Then I was going to lay down on my bed (you know, cleaning for fifteen minutes really takes a lot out of you), but then I remembered that I couldn't remember the last time I cleaned my sheets, so I stripped my bed and brought them downstairs to do laundry.

Now I have 40 minutes to waste until they'll need to be dried. Mine was well wash up the dishes, right? Yup, and now that all the dishes are gone, it's really obvious how dirty the countertops are. Just going to scrub those off a bit.

And then I was going to be perfectly content to lay on the couch and wait out the rest of the 40 minutes unproductively, but Sam was outside and I remembered how gross our backyard is. Can't say I weedwacked (or weed-walked as we call it in this household), because my dad once weekwacked and weedwacked his leg on accident and I just didn't want to risk that, already having one leg currently being held together with stitches. But I did at least throw out beer cans and cups from our housewarming party (which was in August).

So then the sheets were washed, and another 40 minutes on the clock until they'd be dry. I was going to sit still and watch some more tv, but I recalled how I'll be in and out of the doctors this week for my stitches, and I didn't want them to accidentally vomit into my wound on account of how gross my toenails are. So I nicely trimmed them and repainted them. You are quite welcome doctors.

Once the sheets came out, I made my bed, and was going to take a nap because I had been so busy all day, only to realize that it was but a mere 11:30AM. Hello, all day, I've still got you. And that's the reason not to sleep away your Sunday.