Wednesday, March 3, 2010


I am willing to accept that the phenomena I am about to discuss is strictly limited to me. As has been established, cleaning is not exactly my forte. I'm more of your creative sort (read: license to not be bothered with such mundane pursuits as cleaning.....I'm busy creating, man!) and therefore don't always notice the cobwebs in my corners. That's what my mother is for. In my mother's absence, I allow nature to take its course with such things. Until company is coming. And guess what? Company is coming. When you have guests arriving imminently, it's like you slip on "guest goggles". The shit dripping down the side of your refrigerator that hadn't really bothered you is now really gross. And your ten-year old's toilet? Gadzooks! The dog hair on every upholstered surface that has been accepted as a matter of course is now simply nasty. So now, panic has set in. My brother-in-law, the aforementioned "Uncle Skippy" will be arriving on Friday. I'm not sure whether to calmly set about the task at hand or start running around screaming so that I will be declared crazy and therefore will not have been expected to do anything at all except sit in the corner drooling with a jug of wine. While choice number two sounds vastly more appealing, I believe I'm going to have to woman-up and choose door number one, Monty. Damn it. If I appear to be blogging more than usual, it's simple avoidance. Fine. I guess I'll tackle that pile of laundry over there first. Unless I become distracted by a moment of creative genius. Gears are turning......must come up with something quickly.........

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