Is cleaning the house considered a good workout?

I ended up on the bike for nearly 2 hours last night. It had been way too long since I felt the desire to work out. Mostly, I stayed on because I was completely sucked into the book I was reading - Why I Wore Lipstick to my Mastectomy.  I'm almost done. It's funny, many folks have commented that I should write a book about my experience, but reading this book last night made me realize that someone did it. Yes, it's a totally different experience, but done in an easy to read and funny way. How folks have been describing this little blog. We'll see how things turn out in the end. If I die, I won't have to worry about it. If I survive, I'll see if I feel like it's relevant to share with more than the few people who read this. I did take creative writing at a very prestigious arts school, but it was not my major - just something I enjoyed doing. I hunkered down in the back of the classroom and never spoke a word. I think my teacher thought I was mute. Which was what I wanted. He paid attention to the students who were writing Majors, not those of us who needed credits, enjoyed writing as a hobby, and would rather take that class than some other artsy fartsy class that had little to do with what we were GOING TO DO WITH OUR ARTISTIC LIVES!!!  Of course, I realize now that writing helps me as an artist in general. But at 16 - all I knew was that I gained a ton of weight, went to a nearly all-gay school and didn't understand why my guy friends would trim my hair and not be interested in me (the pudgy girl with the bad perm... huh).

But here I am. 41 and about to lose a tit.

And now, I have acquired the skills necessary to communicate to you all how much this utterly sucks balls. 

Hubby is out working all day but we enjoyed a nice breakfast of french toast (ezekiel bread, organic eggs, almond milk and cinnamon) with a gorgeous organic maple syrup on top, and some ridiculously good bacon - we hadn't had bacon in months! I have a bacon fetish, but it lives next to my desire to not become that pudgy 16 year old again. So, we enjoyed this beautiful breakfast (a much better idea than hitting a diner, as I would have certainly ordered corned beef hash, eggs over easy, and would have devoured the toast which certainly would never leave my system in this lifetime).

We have the possibility of having clients over tomorrow night - and are planning to spend the earlier part of the evening out at my hubs gig, which is at an amazing BBQ place. I'm considering not going, but of course he's told his band-mates that I'm on death's door (not really, but it's fun to be dramatic sometimes). See video.

So I've been cleaning. I mean, furniture moving, scrubbing woodwork, neurotic cleaning. I figure, if this job comes through, it will be nice to have the place all sparkly and shit. And if not, I have a ridiculous schedule ahead of me up to surgery. I know, I keep mentioning it, but it's really daunting. I almost feel like I'm nesting, a-la 8 months pregnant. I'm getting ready to make a comfy home for my new baby breast. Instead of nursing, I will be lovingly emptying out the drains, instead of rocking it to sleep, I will be taking pain medication and hoping to be knocked out so I can't hear my own whimpering.

And I really want my house to be clean. 

I should have called my friend who I hire sometimes to clean when life gets hectic. I still may during the busy times. I don't want my man to feel obligated to scrub, but I don't want to feel mad about the fact that he's not. I guess along with sickness comes a feeling of entitlement - everyone should be doing your shit since you can't. I don't want to feel that way, and I tend to overextend myself when it comes to not taking care of me. After my amnio, I was told to lay down for 2 days. I did. On the kitchen floor while I rearranged cabinets and other activities. But back then I had a useless husband and a need to do everything because he refused. That's not true, he DID do a great job in sitting around in his undies watching movies.  My bad.

So now, I should get back to cleaning, since I haven't done much space wise (but my thoroughness is pretty good).  I have so much to work on, so much to learn and do, but I really want this place clean as a whistle - which I've never actually seen, so I would assume it is clean enough to see through.

I still really want a huge bowl of cereal and a Bailey's and coffee, but I'm drinking iced coffee to keep my engine revved. I'm sure any holistic doc would tell me to watch the coffee, and I really don't drink much during the week, but I'm afraid if I don't, I won't have the energy to go all Cornholio and get it all done. I'm still taking my turmeric, drinking that awful Noni swamp water, drinking the baking soda (now I'm adding lemon) which makes me want to vomit, and blissfully I still enjoy my home brewed Kombucha. Thank goodness for deliciousness combined with healthy properties. 

I think as a reward tonight, I'll light the first fire of the season (don't worry, we have a fireplace), and perhaps make a Bailey's and coffee to sip while I watch a movie. We'll see how that goes. I need to learn how to treat myself to stuff I want, but it's hard when nobody ever treated you well - my husband does, yes, but this is all brand new to me. Baby steps.