Yesterday I spent most of the afternoon in the basement crushing empty cardboard boxes to be recycled, and throwing away bags filled with styrofoam packing. I rarely go in the basement at all (too spidery) and my horror of spiders was overshadowed by my horror at the mess. Turns out Shawn is a hoarder. Who knew?
I pounced on him when he came home and interrogated him about why he was collecting hundreds of cardboard boxes and styrofoam. He claims he has no sentimental attachment to the boxes, and that he has just been lazy about taking care of them. While we were talking about this, the doorbell rang and the Purolator guy dropped off three more cardboard boxes with Shawn's name on them. Must monitor this situation in case the boxes begin multiplying again.
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I am hosting a party. A big party. This isn't the kind of thing I normally do, being antisocial and all. I think the last time I hosted a party was twenty years ago, and I don't really remember how to do it, but I think it will involve my doing things I don't like doing. Like cleaning. And cooking food. And so forth. I had trouble sleeping last night after sending out the invitations.
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