Aw, cute!; EW.
Aw: Octopiary. Darling little crocheted octopoda for you and your friends.
EW: I looked after the horrible little dogs again.
I take this with me when I get ready to clean up at that place. If I look after those dogs long enough, I will end up cleaning the house from top to bottom. This time, I tackled the bathroom -- amazingly enough, even though the sink was totally grody, the toilet was not. And the worst part of the whole thing is that all it takes to get things clean is a little water, a little scrubbing, and a little soap! (I use CCU because it's soap and bacteria-killer all in one, and I'm always worried I'm gonna get a case of Salmonella when I'm there. *Shudder*) So now the sinks are clean.
I'll probably tackle the fridge, next time, because that fridge is NASTY. I know it's kind of presumptuous/above and beyond the call of duty, but seriously. There's almost NO room in there, and there are things in there that are obviously well past redemption -- you can just cut a bit of mold off of a hunk of cheese, sure, but there's a medium-sized glass jar with a little moldy lump at the bottom. Black and white molds. There's no label on the jar, and I have no idea what the thing used to be. Bags of veggies that are headed back to their constituent molecules. I don't even KNOW what else is in there, because there's SO MUCH of it that you can't even tell. And that's not even getting into what the bottom of the shelf where the kefir is kept looks like. *Wince*
So, why do I keep saying 'yes' when they ask me if I'll look after their little (germ-riddled) preciouses? I don't like the dogs; I hate making the dog food; I'm revolted by their housekeeping; I make less than a dollar an hour -- there doesn't seem to be much to recommend it... At least until I mention that they often travel to New York, and TWICE now, she's brought me chocolate from Jacques Torres' shop. *Blissful sigh* Which, because I am stupidly easy like that, makes it all better. That and there's good bike-riding around their house.
Oh, remember how I was freaking out about the BUG that crawled out of my keyboard? Quite possibly a silverfish. Aside from eating bookbindings and stuff, the most harm they do is grossing people out. (Still, bugs in my keyboard/laptop = DO NOT WANT!)
EW: I looked after the horrible little dogs again.
I take this with me when I get ready to clean up at that place. If I look after those dogs long enough, I will end up cleaning the house from top to bottom. This time, I tackled the bathroom -- amazingly enough, even though the sink was totally grody, the toilet was not. And the worst part of the whole thing is that all it takes to get things clean is a little water, a little scrubbing, and a little soap! (I use CCU because it's soap and bacteria-killer all in one, and I'm always worried I'm gonna get a case of Salmonella when I'm there. *Shudder*) So now the sinks are clean.
I'll probably tackle the fridge, next time, because that fridge is NASTY. I know it's kind of presumptuous/above and beyond the call of duty, but seriously. There's almost NO room in there, and there are things in there that are obviously well past redemption -- you can just cut a bit of mold off of a hunk of cheese, sure, but there's a medium-sized glass jar with a little moldy lump at the bottom. Black and white molds. There's no label on the jar, and I have no idea what the thing used to be. Bags of veggies that are headed back to their constituent molecules. I don't even KNOW what else is in there, because there's SO MUCH of it that you can't even tell. And that's not even getting into what the bottom of the shelf where the kefir is kept looks like. *Wince*
So, why do I keep saying 'yes' when they ask me if I'll look after their little (germ-riddled) preciouses? I don't like the dogs; I hate making the dog food; I'm revolted by their housekeeping; I make less than a dollar an hour -- there doesn't seem to be much to recommend it... At least until I mention that they often travel to New York, and TWICE now, she's brought me chocolate from Jacques Torres' shop. *Blissful sigh* Which, because I am stupidly easy like that, makes it all better. That and there's good bike-riding around their house.
Oh, remember how I was freaking out about the BUG that crawled out of my keyboard? Quite possibly a silverfish. Aside from eating bookbindings and stuff, the most harm they do is grossing people out. (Still, bugs in my keyboard/laptop = DO NOT WANT!)