So, we have our bi-annual apartment inspection tomorrow. One of the joys of living in gov't housing is that they can come in and check up on you at any time, as long as they give you a 12 hour notice. They check for damage to the apartment, make sure everything works (plumbing, electric, appliances, etc.), and generally criticize your housekeeping.

I once got yelled at (literally yelled at) in front of multiple people because my youngest was sitting on the floor eating potato chips, and he had dropped crumbs on the floor. The entire place was spotless except for those crumbs, and the inspector made such a big deal out of it that I had to go and get the broom and sweep the crumbs up while she was standing there so that she wouldn't give me a 5 day eviction notice. No, i'm not kidding. Fortunately, the new management company isn't quite as nuts as the old one, but inspection days are still intensely stressful.

I've been cleaning and sorting, and getting rid of crap, and finding places for the crap I'm keeping, washing, scrubbing, hanging curtains, etc. Since we were all sick on and off for nearly 3 weeks, it was pretty much a disaster around here. It doesn't help that my mother regularly dumps boxes full of "stuff you can use!" on me, since she's moving and trying to cram a huge house into a 2-bedroom apartment.

Advertisement

In the last week, I've washed all the walls, rearranged and tidied the basement, done, sorted, and put away about 18 loads of laundry (where does it all come from?! I feel like I'm taking it in from the neighbours or something!), cleaned out the kids' rooms, sorted, rearranged, and got rid of a ton of crap in my kitchen (goddamn plasticware), got all my stray books rounded up and put on shelves, cleaned the bathrooms, picked up whatever crap was outside, vacuumed, swept, and mopped EVERYTHING, and dropped off a dozen boxes of assorted crap at the Salvation Army.

A friend has helped me do some of this stuff (my hips have been so bad lately that walking is tough some days, and stairs are nearly impossible at times), and the guys and the kids have helped, but I've done a lot of it by myself, too.

All I really have left to do is to tidy up our bedroom and deal with the heap of clothes I've been ignoring for awhile. And I. Don't. Wanna. But I hafta, because she's coming tomorrow morning. I just have no interest in doing it now. I'm tired, I'm achy, and I'm so fucking sick of cleaning... I really have no choice, I'm just whining. But I suppose I've wasted enough time complaining about it, and I should probably just go get started on it, or else I'm going to be up all night.