There is cleaning, and then there is cleaning for company. When I know people are coming over, all of a sudden my super-laser vision kicks in and I start to see all kinds of dirt and stains that went previously unnoticed.
Where the heck did that little spider web under the kitchen cabinets come from? And why did I not see that there were some stains on the kitchen windowsill? Don't even get me started on the bathrooms, they were all of a sudden the most disgusting bathrooms on the West Coast.
So after the adrenaline faded, my back began complaining, and a little nagging voice in my head whispered, "Are they really going to be looking at the tops of your baseboards? What the heck kind of people look at other people's baseboards? You are doing all of this for nothing!" It doesn't help that my baseboards are painted the most butt white color you have ever seen. One piece of dust lands on the damn things, and you can see it.
I was very tempted to listen to the voice and literally throw in the towel, but I kept on going, trying to tell myself that it needed to be done no matter what, and just do it, already.
All that is left is mopping the kitchen and bathroom floors, dusting, and vacuuming, which I like to save until right before people arrive anyway. The rest of the night will be chatting with Hubba-hubba and watching Lost. OK, maybe I'll cave and do a little folding, but the buck stops there.