Cleaning Mode

I'm so ready. Ready to try my dress on (12 days). Ready to mail the invitations (2 days). Ready to ... just be married, really. In lieu of being able to actually hang out with B just yet, I've taken to my second vice. Vice number one (baking) wasn't an option. I've sent so many packages to B that he's put a moratorium in place for a few weeks: no baked goods, and I didn't want them hanging around my house, so no baking.

In its place, vice number two (compulsive cleaning) has taken hold. Those of you who have visited my apartment know that this isn't an overly neat issue, it's more of a fixation on a specific place. Last week, it was the bathroom baseboards. Last night, it was the linen closet. I now have the cleanest linen closet known to man (and a lot of spare sheets, blankets, and pillows en route to the Salvation Army). The thing is, my apartment is small, so there are only a few places left to exert this energy on, namely the kitchen, my bedroom closet, the coat closet, and the bookshelves. And I can't clean the living room, because the invitations are sitting there, boxed up and waiting for me to take them to the post office on Thursday. Cleaning around them would likely drive me nuts, and make them smell like bleach. (OCD, anyone?) Like I said, I need to vacuum, my counter needs to be wiped down, but darned if I don't have the cleanest linen closet you've ever seen.

The good news? My "to charity" pile grows, literally, every day. The bad news? I have no idea when I'm going to take it all down there (oh the curses of an extra, empty bedroom closet).