We got our new window less then an hour ago. Usually I’m kinda anxious to have people come into my home, even when they’re invited, but this time the glazier was long awaited. He was an elderly man, sturdy built, white hair, stubbly chin, small spectacles on his nose and didn’t look like he had taken a sick-day in his whole life. I don’t know, something about him made me feel relaxed, like a father or grandfather figure. I let my guard down as he made a small joke about the broken window. And the laugh I gave wasn’t a forced one, it was genuine. He promised me he would be back around noon at the very latest and just as he said, at 11.45 he returned with the now repaired window.
I had been cleaning all morning, making sure the door to the bedroom was closed at all times so the cats wouldn’t get any crazy ideas. But since I only had the living room left to vacuum I took a break to wait for the glazier to return with the window as I didn’t want to cut the cats off from their regular hiding spot with the window missing. The cats usually likes to hide under the bed when I’m vacuuming and I always start in the bedroom so they have somewhere to flee to once I move into the hall and living room. But since we had no window in the bedroom I had to take all the other rooms first as the cats were hiding in the living room instead. So I sat down, thinking I’d take a little break.. it can’t be that bad, can it? It could. Now I really don’t feel like finishing, even if it’s only to vacuum the last room. Not even my reward for cleaning (something sweet like candy, ice cream or a pastry) seems to be able to get me off my ass.