ALL THE THINGS ARE CLEAN.

No, really. Every dish we own is clean and put away. Every piece of clothing and linen in the house is washed and either folded, being worn, or on a neatly made bed. The posters I've been meaning to put up are up, all the books are on bookshelves, the sound system is moved to a more logical place than it was, the bathroom and kitchen are scrubbed and sparkling, the floors are swept and vacuumed, my awesome new purple tablecloth is on the table, the fridge is cleared of everything gross, the trash is taken out, there is nothing on the coffee table, and the foldout bed is ready for Kit to inhabit it on Tuesday. And we made an actual cooked dinner with sides and everything. Today, domesticity is my bitch.