Cleaning. Not My Thing. Should Be Though.

Wanna know what feels great?

Husband makes me feel pretty, smart, and happy. Which is important. And he values what I do. Sometimes (all the time) I accuse him of being mean to me. He never really is. I think it's a knee jerk reaction when I feel defensive. Like when I haven't cleaned our apartment in probably. Well. Ever. Hahaha. I'll do dishes, or occasionally fold laundry, but I'm a pretty cluttery person. I should want to change that about myself, but I don't really care enough to do anything about it. But I should. For him.

I think I'll turn on some lovely music, and do dishes, and open windows, and clean up my apartment. Make it pretty. I value my darling little place, and I should probably work harder on showing that. Like cleaning my side of the bed. I'm hoarding my clothes there. Which is stupid, because it makes me trip, and that really annoys me.

So I'm going to have a cleaning party with myself. And vacuum my carpets. And clean my toilet.