As I looked around my house this morning, preparing to head into town, my mind settled on the fact that it (my house, not town) was not dead ready.
What is dead ready you ask? Well, the term was coined by my Evil Twin. We call ourselves that because we think so much alike. If she sends an email to me she addresses it Evil Twin (ET) and signs it OET (Other Evil Twin) and I do the same. The term is interchangable.
Anyway, ET told me once that when she leaves for work each morning, she makes sure her house is dead ready. She claims now that she didn't put it quite that way, but I know better. Besides, this is my story and I can tell it any way I want to.
So what does dead ready mean? It means that if you die and don't make it back home, the family would not have to pick up the mess around the house before all of the well wishers came to call. Or something like that.
Anyway, my house is definitely not dead ready when I leave each day.
- made the bed
- picked up the couch pillows that were tossed onto the floor last night
- folded blankets
- cleaned the tooth paste out of the bathroom sink
- picked up the socks that got kicked off when the fire heated my tootsies up to the point that I wanted them bare
- did the dishes
- cleared the counter top
- replaced the empty paper towel tube with a new roll of towels
- hung the towel back up in the bathroom
- removed my shoes from under the kitchen table and put them in the closet
And guess what? As long as my soul is dead ready, I'm not going to care whether my house is or not. Because... well.... I'll be.... D.E.A.D.
Now it's time to attack one of my many projects. I guess me and ET are different in some ways, huh. Til tomorrow... Stay safe..