I've Now Got (Less Than) Three Weeks Left Of Freedom

OK, time to drop the other shoe: My parents are coming home in three weeks.  A blindside if there ever was one.  I really, really thought that since they left for Las Vegas late, they would come home late.  Also, Mother said that they'd be returning in the summer, which means that they would have just shifted their half-year away from here later in 2025.

Then again, Mother also did say that they (or at least she; I know Father hates the winter now) have to come back in time for tax season.  Also, even though it seems that March is way too soon for them to come back here, I looked through my Franklin Quests from previous years, and they usually come back in March.  That means that, unless they promptly turn around and head back to Vegas (or go on a lengthy vacation somewhere), they would have spent only three months out of town.  That doesn't seem long for two people who want to winter in warmer weather.

Regardless, I'm under the damn gun now.  All the time I thought (or wished) I had is now a distant memory.  I do have (less than) three weeks, but I have to now think of what stuff can I go through, and how do I pack up all the stuff I want to keep.  And then I have to worry about getting the house cleaned.  It's a thankless burden, trying to get everything tip-top in time for my parents coming back.  I have to worry, but dammit, I don't want to worry about it now.  Just later, please.