Defeated

A few days back, I blitzed the house. Middle to bottom. Cleared the floors, hoovered, picked up everything, put things away, washed up, tidied up and, not to mention, completely screwed myself three ways from Christmas. I was, for want of a better term, as busy as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.

And, mores the point, I completely knackered myself doing it. Today, two days later, my legs and back are screaming at me, and my pain killers are doing diddly squat to make me feel better.

Yesterday I had another quick tidy - I picked up stuff, I washed up more stuff, but couldn't do much more because I hurt too much.

Now, today, I've gotten up and much to my dismay and failure, I just can't do any more. The living room floor is completely covered in toys and stuff. The washing up is already mounting. The laundry had been pulled off the table and admit, I refolded it. There is dog food and kids cereal all over the kitchen floor. The dogs water bowl is full of tissue paper....

But I quit. I just cannot do it today. I'm going to try kicking the kids asses into touch to get them to sort the lounge, but otherwise, everyone else wins.

At least the sun is out...