Mr. Clean on Crack

Tonight was productive. In an evil way. I cooked pasta while the oatmeal cookies were in the oven. While those were cooling I scrubbed every corner of my house with an intensity known only to OCD overachievers who have had very, very bad days at work. My closets are spotless with the clothes assembled by outfit coordination, the labels on the cans in my pantry are all facing out (and grouped according to the food pyramid), and the pens in my office are sorted by color and lined up in descending size order. What a day.

This is where it's difficult to not talk about work.

Screw this. I've gotta go fold the laundry. I'm on my fourth load.