I was taking strong chemo drugs, the kind that turned your palms and the bottoms of your feet black and caused you to easily forget what you were doing. I felt so bad, but my kitchen needed cleaning. I grew up in a filthy house, with a mother who was oblivious to dirt, so I can only countenance so much clutter before the darkness of depression sets in.
I went downstairs, plugged the sink, poured in the Dawn, and turned on the hot water to wash the dishes. Suddenly, my stomach heaved and I bolted for the bathroom, making it in time. Afterwards, I went upstairs, opened the murder mystery I had been reading, and settled in to learn the identity of the murderer.
After nearly thirty minutes, I stopped reading to go downstairs to fix me something to eat. I was thunderstruck (floored) to see so much liquid (water) on the linoleum in the kitchen. Then I remembered that I had left the hydrant running, and I rushed to turn it off. Thankfully, the flow had cooled.
Grabbing cotton (fabric) towels by the handful, I attempted to absorb the water without having to use the mop. I just did not have the strength for rubbing up and down (polish). The job seemed to take forever, using all of the towels in the house, for I had to continuously change (switch) the towels for new ones, as I utilized every ounce of my diminished energy to wring them out. I was so exhausted by the end of the ordeal, but my linoleum got quite a shine (polish)!
I decided that I would let Douglas wash the dishes when he was home on the weekends. I wasn’t taking any more chances on flooding the whole house.
Written for the Same Same But Different for Saturday, December 1. Challenge from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. Words are water, fabric, polish, switch, and floor. The challenge is to use synonyms for each word.