Unsatisfactory accomplishments

I just did a lot of chores.

I started with the usual dishes. I do those pretty much every day. Empty the dishwasher, load the dishwasher, wash stuff that can't go in the dishwasher.

When I was done with that and I'd set out the stuff I need to cook tonight's dinner, I decided to go ahead and deal with an issue that's been bugging me for several days: the laundry room/pantry needed to be swept and mopped out.

After the apartment guys took the washer and dryer we were renting, I discovered not only the expected dust and lint bunnies but also a lake of spilled liquid detergent that I had to scrub out by hand (I used paper towels). When I'd finally raked up the majority of the goop, I swept up what I could of the dust and then mopped the closet floor. After that I went ahead and mopped the kitchen floor too.

Then I decided to finally get the stupid laundry off the dining room table--as if doing that would somehow change the fact that my table is in chaos, pushed up against the wall so it's out of the way for moving in a new washer and dryer and covered with all the junk that had been sitting on the original washer and dryer.

So I put the laundry away, and then I sorted all the dirty laundry into three baskets, lights, whites, and darks, so that when the new washer and dryer arrive--or when we run out of clothes and I have to force myself to go to the coin laundry behind the building--I will at least be organized in advance.

Then I rearranged the junk on the dining room table and tried to convince myself that it looked better. And then I vacuumed the floor where the apartment guys had tracked dirt and lint.

I don't really feel a sense of accomplishment or happiness, probably because my dining room is still retarded and because none of this has solved the real problem in our lives, which is money.