I have absolutely no excuse for moaning and groaning whatsoever. Walt has been working like a fiend all day. I've done what I could (in between trips to the computer, that is). Since I can't kneel, I was scrubbing the floor sitting on my butt or one side and scooting along through the newly washed tiles.
The floor is clean, but there is much still to be done--mostly cleaning off counters in the kitchen (probably could go without doing that, but I suspect it will be better if I do).
Even tho I feel like a piker compared to what Walt has done, my body is still aching.
And there are miles to go before I sleep.