Must clean or the spiders will be wearing my clothes next

After taking it a bit easier for a few weeks, less trashiness at the Sly Fox, more relaxed forms of socialising - Wizard of Oz watching with Madam Phantasm, lunches and coffees with Zoo, walks in the park with a charming gentlebutch and New Years Eve picnicking with whore activists - the last week and a bit has been full on - adventures at Gurlesque (in which Wife was amazing - all exuburance, sexy bondage and a very lucky bottle) and Veronica from the US reminded me that good spoken word is hotter than nudity, any day of the week. Back to the Sly for rather disappointing show with Sex and Glita away (hooray for the fabric twirling boy though), and dinners out all the time, Spurs For Jesus for Zoo's natal anniversary and dinner for mine, I'm a leetle puffed out and need a good lie down.

The aim of taking space is to ease back into my own body - to recover from the energy I put out in frantic social spaces. And I need to recover sufficiently to feel up to engaging with the housework, right now.

My space is in absolute choas. I keep finding diamantes imbedded in my carpet - I don't know where they've come from. Everything is covered in a thick film of my (head) hair and cat fur. There has been a silver false eyelash caught in a spiders web half way up my kitchen wall for at least a month. I guess I should be pleased that at least my chaos is undeniably femme chaos. However, I think June Cleaver would be horrified, all the same.

I do have this grand plan of wearing a french maid uniform in the hopes that this will inspire me to clean (will turning it into a fetish activity be enough motivation)? Or possibly erecting an altar to Hestia (Vesta in the Roman tradition) a goddess after June Cleaver's own heart she rules over the hearth and home, never leaving or involving herself with outside concerns (will turning cleaning into religious practice provide the imputus).?