what i see.

• toys strewn across the living room.
• a roll of kitchen trash bags that collapses into my trash can at the first hint of trash.
• the wrappings from bar-b-que lunch.
• a snoozing dog.
• a dirty pan of taco meat juice that i still haven't dumped from last night.
• a vase of english ivy that i oh-so-martha-stewartly arranged, anchored by seashells from our honeymoon. oh, it stinks 'cause it's been in there for too long.
• ashes on the hearth because the (very heavy, metal and glass) fireplace cover falls off all the time and strews old ash (not even mine) everywhere.
• stained carpet that i wish i could afford to rip up, even if i am renting this house.
• open dish soap.
• formula dust on the counter.
• bills that need to be mailed.
• my steno notebook with story notes scrawled that i can only comprehend for up to two hours after writing them.
• trash scattered across the back porch and yard because the dog got into the bag that we were too lazy to carry all the way to the cans in the back alley.
• a cowboys day calendar flipped to "tuesday, feb. 26."
• fans whirring 'cause the high is 42 tomorrow so i can't turn on the a/c, but i'm stinkin hot.
• a panic attack coming on if i do not remove my rear from this seat and straighten before a tiny newborn baby (born to a very organized, clean, meticulous mama) arrives at this appalling residence in t-minus 7.75 hours.

(sorry, crys. didn't mean to freak you out. i promise it will be spic and span before your son arrives... remember that whole schpeal about deadlines? how the best work is done when the pressure is on? that applies here. oh, how it applies here.)