what up?

I have been feeling less-than-even-moderately motivated as of late. Change of seasons? Shorter days? Sub-par daytime TV? Bigger pants? Whatever the case (any or all of these), my housework seems to suffer the greatest. I always detest folding and putting away the laundry (don't mind the schlepping up and down the stairs with baskets and washing and drying and laying flat) and dusting always ignites a bit of an asthmatic episode. Dishes seem to linger a little longer in the dishwasher (clean and again, longing to be on their respective shelves) and vacuuming, well, let's just say that the Kenmore canister vac spends a good bit more of it's time in the hallway collecting rubbish on top of itself than actually inside of itself. Why does this seemingly, mostly put together gal lack the basic common drive to tidy one's home? Sure, I do love it when the I can see out the windows, but I don't really mind nose prints from the dog or fingerprints from the kids on the glass. I do require a clean bed and everyone needs to be regularly scrubbed and hosed off. My kitchen island is a clear representation of the inner workings of my brain - wiped clean, but insanely cluttered and littered with lists and magazines that I "sort of" read and legos and lipglosses and a penciled in events on my Martha Stewart calendar (so noncommittal and un-Martha like). Perhaps, I need to take a lesson from Mother Nature and turn over a new leaf (sorry - painful, but fitting pun). So far this morning, I vacuumed 1/2 of the house (and the vacuum), dusted a tad, washed a cage and recycled and chucked a lot of crap, baked muffins and entertained a couple of extra kiddos. Now, I think I might re-caffeinate myself, watch some trash and eat some junk before the afternoon frenzy hits... TGIF!