My Name Is Cindy

So...the day started just like any other -- up at the crack of dawn to let the dogs out, fix a cup of coffee, check email and Facebook, blah, blah, blah.  When I went for my second cup of coffee, I glanced up at this cute little keyholder thing that is hanging next to the kitchen door and a wave of panic came over me.  Where are my keys?  Look around -- not in the kitchen, not on the kitchen table, not in the living room.  Okay, maybe my purse.  Nope.  Under the couch, under the cushions, in the refrigerator.  Oh my God -- my keys are nowhere to be found.  Not even in the trash that was outside waiting to be picked up by the trash man.  ICK!!!!!  That was disgusting.  I have an extra set of car keys...but still.

I have now torn the house apart in my quest to find the elusive set of keys.  And while I still haven't found them, I did discover something almost as bad.  Geeze...my house really needs cleaned!!!  So now I'm pissed.  You can ask my daughters and they'll tell you -- when I'm mad, I clean.  So I guess I will try to turn a negative into a positive and at least get something done today besides this unending searching.  I have just finished scrubbing the kitchen floor the old fashioned way -- down on my hands and knees.

So, for today, if you have reason to talk to me (or talk about me), please refer to me as Cinderella.  Thank you.  And now I'm off to scrub a toilet with a toothbrush.  Not my toothbrush.