I Really Don't Know Why I Bother

Unfortunately, I am the only person currently living in my house who cares enough about its state of neatness/cleanliness to actually DO something about it.  Basically, what this means is that I am, Sisyphus-like, constantly pushing the boulder uphill, only to have it roll back down the second I stop to take a breath.  My house embodies the second law of thermodynamics.

Which is why this picture that I saw on Facebook today is so darned funny: it's completely true.

Our annual St. Patrick's Day bash is next weekend.  We're expecting 50 guests, plus or minus a few.  Since my husband's best friend and his family are coming to the party from out of town, we will also have houseguests from Friday to Sunday (the party is Saturday evening.)  That combination would ordinarily be a recipe for a nervous breakdown even under the best of circumstances.  Adding in the background level of chaos normally present in my house (toys, laundry, dog-hair dust bunnies, loose papers) does not improve matters, especially considering that some combination of party guests, houseguests, and babysitter (watching our kids and the child of the houseguests during the party) will be using every room of the house.

I've been trying to pre-clean and organize for a week already: the painting project in the living room (and some touching-up paintwork in the front hall as well that I didn't mention) were all part of that endeavor.  The house may actually be shipshape by a week from Sat, but I will probably be a raging lunatic by then!  It would all be so much easier if I could manage not to care what the house looks like, but I am descended from a long line of Italian neat-freak women and that ain't going to happen.  If I had a "woman cave," it would be pristine!  And also padlocked.  :)