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Again, happiest of birthday weekends to my favorite person. We've had a fantastic time, embracing New York, lounging, sleeping in like we rarely get to do. Now it's time to recognize once again the reality of having a job and not being made of millions. Sigh. Today has been very accomplished, for me. I woke up feeling dreadfully sloppy after a wonderful night of celebrating CB, beginning with dinner at Zebu across the street (we abandoned the idea of Old Homestead yesterday afternoon on a shopping spree to Banana Republic) followed by drinks at Southern Hospitality with Alison and Scott, and later, Belvedere and Canada Dry Diet Ginger Ale (groan) with Wii Bowling at home! Good, but head hammering times. Today, my throat hurts and I've been completely foggy, but I used that to my advantage and got right to work (um, after bagels and Grey's Anatomy, that is!) I pawed through my closet, emptying every last purse or bag of discarded receipts, grocery lists, tickets to events, matchbooks, etc., and now I've got a complete collection of entirely empty purses and bags - hurray! I typically treat purses with the same disrespect that I used to treat vehicle floorboards, which means debris multiplies and congregates there. I wish I could kick that quality of mine. Anyway, my closet is now impeccable, with the exception of the floor of the far back, which remains a mystery until I feel as much motivation again. I ran to Key Food, grabbed ingredients for chili (it's that time of year again!), came home and chopped up an onion and green and red pepper and browned the turkey and opened all of the cans of tomato miscellaneous and now, warming in the slow cooker, is turkey chili. Then I emptied the refrigerator of all of the old science experiments beginning to rot us out of here. I love the kitchen, love to cook...but there are repurcussions, some of which involve dishes, dirtied Tupperware, and gathered remains of old and unused grocery items. That brings me to right about now, when I'm taking an organization break and musing at why and how I am like this. This is (with all due respect and with the best of warm love) a direct result of being my mom's daughter. I used to call it anal retentiveness, but in my wiser adult days, I just consider it to be concentrated effort to take care of what one owns. Not that she doesn't take that idea to an extreme! Oh, she does, and I do now. But I don't, regardless of how hard I try, have the attention to detail that is hers. Floorboards can shove it - who will notice a little ray of dust along the slim edge of a floorboard? (other than my mom, that is!) But today's activities are the first steps toward impressing her when she and my dad visit in mid-November. It isn't anything she might say or do in reaction to a non-clean apartment belonging to her daughter - no, it's more of my ritualistic and instinctive approach to thanking her for teaching me what she did, regardless of the number of times I was 'grounded' for a messy bedroom, or subjected to dusting the whole damn house (we had a lot of wooden banisters and coffee tables, let me say that). I'd like her to enter my home and feel comfortable. I know that for my mom, comfort is cleanliness. It's one of the many things Craig and I have in common in terms of his family. His mom stays up late into the night during the holidays cleaning the kitchen after feeding a huge crew. She does that because she feels obliged to make breakfast the next morning. She does it because she cares about it. Sometimes I think I could be more attentive to these things around here. Why can't I empty my purses when I'm switching over to a new one? Why do I shrug it off? Why am I lazy about it? Anyway, it doesn't matter, because I'm constantly aware of it. I organized a drawer filled with recipes today, I removed a lot of unworn clothing from my newly tidy bedroom closet, and now the residual work that I must do is to put stuff away in its place. It felt good, and since we're out of town next weekend, I needed today. I just needed to know I can come home to a simplistic environment where old mail, discarded receipts, half-empty pint glasses with shrunken ice and crumbs from bagels and dark coffee stains on countertops are tended, and the apartment feels like a comfortable and clean place to be. I really, really needed today. My reward? Dexter is on at 9. :)