Yesterday I Screamed

But everything is all right now.

I've had several blissful hours of silent solitude in the early morning hours, a mug of strong coffee, and I'm wearing my new loungewear. In a clean house. With a kitchen full of food ready for company. And I'm at the beginning of 10 days off work.

I really love having company. Love it. It's in my genes. Grandma regularly hosted students and family and all sorts of company and various live-ins (including me!) for years and years. I love feeding people, I love giving them a comfy bed (now there are choices of comfy beds in the house).

But when my blender crapped out while making hummus (which is, by the way, one of the messiest things on the planet to make), my vanilla ice cream custard was taking forever to freeze, mountains of dirty dishes were piling up by the sink, I was beyond tired, and I had about an hour and a half to clean the entire upstairs before Tim's brother and sister-in-law arrived from Tucson...I screamed.

Several times. Loudly.

Do not even ask me why I felt the compelling need to bother making homemade ice cream yesterday. And chocolate chip pecan dried cherry cookies. And messy hummus. And clean the entire house from top to bottom (breaking a land speed record with the vacuum cleaner in the process). I'm sure there are those out there with that perverse hospitality gene who just..simply...KNOW.

At least three months worth of scream exited my lungs at that moment. And I felt much, much better afterward. To hell with crying. Screaming is much more satisfying. I really should have done this back in April.

I suppose I should be bothered by the fact that I can scream like bloody murder with all the windows open and not one neighbor came or called to investigate. Possibly it might have been muffled by the 80's hair rock blasting on Sirius at the time.