There are nineteen days left until my husband gets home! Nineteen! I want to jump up and down and shout, but it's really early in the morning and I haven't finished my coffee yet. We're in the teens! That's a big jump, psychologically, every time he goes away on a trip.
This is about the time that I really start getting ready for him to come home. Yesterday I soaked and scrubbed the range burner things. (What are those things? The silver bowls that electric range burners sit in? Anyone?) One of them is so incredibly blackened that I think it warrants just throwing away. Which means I get to go to the kitchen store at the mall, which means I get to buy fancy pasta sauce and some gadget that I absolutely must have which will then take up space on the counter for two years until I throw it away. I am a connoisseur of all things useless-kitchen-gadgety.
Today's cleaning project will probably be the refrigerator, because I really just can't bring myself to do the oven. It has a self-cleaning feature, which fills the entire house with the smell of charred flesh, I don't know why. And when I clean it myself, I am never convinced that I've gotten all the cleanser rinsed out, and I'm afraid that molecules from it are going to get in my food and kill someone. Seriously, I worry. And also, that black crap that collects in the bottom of the oven is pretty gross.