I mean, what is the fucking point?
All I do is tidy. From the minute I get up to the end of the day, and yet my house is always a shit hole.
Plod around putting things away. Plod plod plod. Plod upstairs with washing. Plod downstairs with rubbish. Plod into the kitchen with dirty cups. Plod backwards and forwards shoveling armsfull of toys and dressing up and jigsaws and lego into the toy room.
Toys.
Craft stuff.
The kitchen.
Clothes - oh the fucking clothes.
I must have spent hours tidying today and I am sitting here looking around and I could weep - there is not one tiny corner of my house that doesn't need tidying.
And the cleaner even came today! For a few brief seconds the carpet must have been clear because he hoovered it.
It is so depressing.