Well, I feel like I've walked a million miles. Anyone who says you don't get enough exercise when you're cleaning is whacked. Seriously. My feet are killing me.
I've worked out a little rhythm. Pick up some item at one end of the apartment. Carry it to the other end. Pick up an item in that room. Carry it back to the other room. Even being efficient hasn't helped in the end. I still have swollen ankles.
The sore feet have driven me to a hot soak in the tub. If you could see the pitiful size of my tub, you would understand. Every night I wedge myself in that tub in expectation that I'll have to call 911 to pry me out. Only the reduced swelling in my ankles induces me to continue on. Overall, I'm more of a shower gal, myself.
It's a good thing the house cleaning is drawing to an end. Then it's back to the writing! Yay! I can't wait.
In the meantime, I'll prop the feet up and read a book in the evenings. Surely there are plenty of them in my library. And tomorrow?
One last day of cleaning.