
I decide to simplify the cleaning bit, focus on a room a day. Sounds manageable. So I start with the bedroom, do a 360, sigh. Kind of overwhelming, what with all those little bookshelves I had my husband build in. Seemed a good idea at the time. Now I see them as the little dust collectors they truly are.
Hmm...more simplifying is called for. How about I just tackle those piles of unread fiction by my bed? Let's see...there's Stand the Storm, The Beekeepers Apprentice, Cutting for Stone, the latest by Chelsea Cain (absolutely love her chilling Sweetheart series), a book by famous mystery authors on the writing of mysteries--now how did that get in there?
I'm like a kid in the proverbial candy store. Where to start? Should I stack them by size? Alphabetically by author? Sub-genre? My gaze lights on Spencer Seidel's debut novel, Dead of Wynter. Why not read now, I reason, stack later? Okay, then. I drop onto the futon, put my feet up and tuck in.
Still spring for another 24 hours, after all...