What's in a Name?

Recently, I've decided it's time to become the domestic goddess God intended me to be.  I have gone through phases of my life where my room was so clean, you could eat off the floor (my dorm room, no less).  At other times, you may not be able to see my dining room table because I haven't finished putting away the laundry.  Recently, I've been in much less of a cooking, cleaning, and organizing mood, and more in the "everything's CLEAN, it's just a bit messy" state of mind.  But it's time to go through the mail, file the bank statements, put the shoes in their boxes and on the shelves, and put the glue gun back in the craft bin.  While I'm at it, I should probably start cooking on a regular basis, not just when I think R has been neglected and I should throw some pasta on the stove or my friends have demanded I whip up a batch of my creme brule.  And so, my journey on the road to becoming a domestic goddess begins. . . just as soon as I go to the gym, study for my exam on Thursday, and spend at least 8 hours of my weekend working.