My house is filthy. I admit it. I have neglected it something awful. I feel helpless to get it done but I am trying.

I have not had the energy to clean as thoroughly as I should for a few years now. I look at all that needs doing and just hide from him and everyone else and cry.

Most of it stems from my back hurting so bad all the time. (I have, on too many occasions, hurt it getting The Curmudgeon up from the floor.) I can only do so much and then I have to sit down to ease the pain.

I don’t have the time or energy to run back and forth to the doctor for my back and my numb arm. My Tens machine can only help so much.

Therefore, my house is dirty.

I try but I can’t seem to get it clean enough to begin to keep up with it. then I get depressed and don’t even want to be here.

As of lately, I am working on clearing out the back porch. I have hopes of managing to do each room of the house and then finding a way to keep up with the mess.

So now my garden gets neglected. Sigh.

Then there’s the attic, I need to hire someone to do it. I know that room is way beyond me. The mess from the roofer is more than I can handle.

Yesterday’s shirt

Why? Because his idiot parents designed the kitchen and only left room for a very small one. The second one gives me spill-over room.

We’d used our original coppertone fridge for a spill-over fridge when we got a new one about five years ago. (That one had to fit in the small space where the coppertone one was. So it too is small of stature and room.)

So when our 43-year-old coppertone (our original refrigerator) died, I needed a new one to replace it.

The new one, being on the back porch, has only one size restraint. It had to fit through the doors.

Time to make a huge bowl of potato salad now that I have room to put it away.

I bought cherries today. I held these two up to show the Curmudgeon.

“Look! Cherry scrotum!

I’m a sick, sick person. Yep.