My house is a mess. How can that be? I haven't lived in it for almost a month. My 8-pound cat has been here, but how she could wreak this much havoc, I have no idea.
So - to clean or not to clean? That is the question. I am home for five days before I take off for 10. What does the gambler in me do? Live in a mess for five more days knowing in 16 I will come home to a HUGE mess to clean? Or do I clean tomorrow to live relatively tranquilly for four days knowing I'll have another mess on my hands when I return, but that the mess I'll return to if I clean will be less heinous than the one I would have if I just sat around on my butt all day tomorrow.
Decisions, decisions.
I am going to clean tomorrow, but even pretending for a minute I could handle living this way for another week is a bit freeing. Seriously, Simba and I won't have company this week. No one will ever know I need to dust and vacuum. No one will know before I can vacuum I will need to move the suitcase that is still by my backdoor (and the clothes I have piled on the floor next to it for the washing machine); and absolutely no one will see the tiny piles of cat hair that have collected in various corners of my carpet.
But I still have no idea how one tiny cat can make such a friggin' mess of my house. And yes, I am blaming her. The pile of shoes (14.5 pair - no idea where the left blue heel is) next to the rubber plant is modern art. And the toothpaste spots on the faucet are there because I'm saving water, and thus, doing my part to save the planet.
I need a pool boy...
So - to clean or not to clean? That is the question. I am home for five days before I take off for 10. What does the gambler in me do? Live in a mess for five more days knowing in 16 I will come home to a HUGE mess to clean? Or do I clean tomorrow to live relatively tranquilly for four days knowing I'll have another mess on my hands when I return, but that the mess I'll return to if I clean will be less heinous than the one I would have if I just sat around on my butt all day tomorrow.
Decisions, decisions.
I am going to clean tomorrow, but even pretending for a minute I could handle living this way for another week is a bit freeing. Seriously, Simba and I won't have company this week. No one will ever know I need to dust and vacuum. No one will know before I can vacuum I will need to move the suitcase that is still by my backdoor (and the clothes I have piled on the floor next to it for the washing machine); and absolutely no one will see the tiny piles of cat hair that have collected in various corners of my carpet.
But I still have no idea how one tiny cat can make such a friggin' mess of my house. And yes, I am blaming her. The pile of shoes (14.5 pair - no idea where the left blue heel is) next to the rubber plant is modern art. And the toothpaste spots on the faucet are there because I'm saving water, and thus, doing my part to save the planet.
I need a pool boy...
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