Finally


I've scrubbed

and swished

and wiped down

and put up

and straightened

and folded

and stashed

and vacuumed--

the last of which drove Zach the Cat 

from his comfortable corner on the sofa

to a hidey-hole in the house.

It's 12:04 now on Friday morning.
I'm hours away from getting up to go to work.
I really should be in bed,
and Zach really should be right next to me.

Instead I'm here at the computer and he's somewhere.

Sometimes things just have to get done

no matter sleep, the cat, or the calling of the sofa.

The place is cleaner for sure. Finally.