Oy.
Dear Messmates:
I have a secret sorrow to unburden upon your gentle ears.
MY CONDO IS A FREAKIN PIGSTY.
1. Enter through the backdoor at the kitchen (because we're in New England where the front door is strictly ornamental) and
1a. notice pile of shoes kicked off by door
1b. winter coats on coathook that could really go back to the coat closet, since it's 80 degrees out
1c. sandy floor, which after sweeping could stand a serious holystoning
1d. dog's placemat is looking a bit skeevy
1e. the kitchen table is doing duty as a junk drawer, apparently
1f. what's that odeur coming from the fridge?
2. Proceed to butler's pantry which connects kitchen to the rest of the place and cringe upon seeing
2a. dishes piled up because dishwasher is broken and I'm stubborn
2b. wow, that's one hell of a floor
3. Ah, the dining room!
3a. the dining table still has the extra leaves in it from two weekends ago
3b. we do not keep the phone books in the display niche, or at least we shouldn't
3c. everything's got a nice even coat of dust and doghair
3d. hey, those aren't my books!
3e. someone's little pawprints visible on the oak floor
4. The living room, where
4a. it's not bad, actually, except that
4b. the rug needs to go to the drycleaner and
4c. the bar cart needs dusting
5. Guest bedroom
5a. is okay
6. The bathroom is a problem child, because it's got no storage, so
6a. my makeup has escaped its cage
6b. the tub needs scrubbing
6c. along with everything else
6d. and storage solutions are wanted, bigtime
7. My nest, or den, or whatever you want to call it
7a. has a couch with a slipcover that could use a wash
7b. and a floor that could use a sweep
7c. and bookshelves that could be organized
7d. and a utility closet whose chaotic inutility makes me cry
7e. and stacks of old CDs that need to go in a storage box in the basement
7f. and the dust has probably solidified to the point where a chisel might be needed
7g. and the side tables are a bit grubby
8. and lastly my bedroom
8a. which since I moved has been where I've thrown whatever I couldn't deal with
8b. and by now gives me seizures
8c. and bears no resemblance to the seductive boudoir of luv that I intended
To say nothing of the window-washing that's needed.
Kind friends, I have frankly recounted my sins. I shall now repent. But I'd rather I pay the lady $100 a month had HER do the repenting, if you see what I mean. Can't seem to train the dog to do it.
I have a secret sorrow to unburden upon your gentle ears.
MY CONDO IS A FREAKIN PIGSTY.
1. Enter through the backdoor at the kitchen (because we're in New England where the front door is strictly ornamental) and
1a. notice pile of shoes kicked off by door
1b. winter coats on coathook that could really go back to the coat closet, since it's 80 degrees out
1c. sandy floor, which after sweeping could stand a serious holystoning
1d. dog's placemat is looking a bit skeevy
1e. the kitchen table is doing duty as a junk drawer, apparently
1f. what's that odeur coming from the fridge?
2. Proceed to butler's pantry which connects kitchen to the rest of the place and cringe upon seeing
2a. dishes piled up because dishwasher is broken and I'm stubborn
2b. wow, that's one hell of a floor
3. Ah, the dining room!
3a. the dining table still has the extra leaves in it from two weekends ago
3b. we do not keep the phone books in the display niche, or at least we shouldn't
3c. everything's got a nice even coat of dust and doghair
3d. hey, those aren't my books!
3e. someone's little pawprints visible on the oak floor
4. The living room, where
4a. it's not bad, actually, except that
4b. the rug needs to go to the drycleaner and
4c. the bar cart needs dusting
5. Guest bedroom
5a. is okay
6. The bathroom is a problem child, because it's got no storage, so
6a. my makeup has escaped its cage
6b. the tub needs scrubbing
6c. along with everything else
6d. and storage solutions are wanted, bigtime
7. My nest, or den, or whatever you want to call it
7a. has a couch with a slipcover that could use a wash
7b. and a floor that could use a sweep
7c. and bookshelves that could be organized
7d. and a utility closet whose chaotic inutility makes me cry
7e. and stacks of old CDs that need to go in a storage box in the basement
7f. and the dust has probably solidified to the point where a chisel might be needed
7g. and the side tables are a bit grubby
8. and lastly my bedroom
8a. which since I moved has been where I've thrown whatever I couldn't deal with
8b. and by now gives me seizures
8c. and bears no resemblance to the seductive boudoir of luv that I intended
To say nothing of the window-washing that's needed.
Kind friends, I have frankly recounted my sins. I shall now repent. But I'd rather I pay the lady $100 a month had HER do the repenting, if you see what I mean. Can't seem to train the dog to do it.