The semester is officially concluded, and not a moment too soon. Finals Week was beginning to make me miss real clothes, contacts, and recently washed hair.
And order.
I will confess, that in this moment, my entire life rests in the boughs of absolute disarray. My room, unspeakable. The kitchen table...wait, does it still exist beneath the mounds of text books, junk mail, and Christmas paper?
Holy man...
Thursday marks a 12 hour lock-down. No one leaves the apartment until it is certain, beyond a possible doubt, that if the health department showed up for high tea, they wouldn't leave behind boarded windows and caution tape having marked the unit "condemned". [and by "no one," I mean me.]
Thursday I'll shake off the Domestic Goddess persona and put her back to work...the Student is on hiatus, I tell you. There's more cleaning to be done than can possibly be accomplished in a day, and Christmas cards to write and send, and apple butter to can for gifts, and laundry to complete. I'll do it all to the tune of old holiday hits, and the apartment will smell more like a home than a college pad. It will be a magnificent day...oh, except for that hour I promised for GRE studying at The Bucks. Well, the student is sort of on a break...
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