But I Won't Like It
Am I working on the house? NO. I am laying around. Its too hot to work. I even went to the comic book store with J this morning to avoid cleaning. I wore a delightfully white trash outfit of white Hanes wife beater tank with a black bra underneath it. And converse. And dangly earrings. Because apparently I think I live in New Jersey in 1987. Except my earrings were not hot pink plastic. But I digress.
My house is still not clean. I walked around snapping crazily this morning ala Mary Poppins. And nothing. No Dick Van Dyke even. And what is with that? Like that bitch has anything to do. Wait, is he dead? IMDB says no. What a relief. So where is he?
Not cleaning my house.
No one is. Not me, not J. Not the goddamn dogs that messed up the carpet in the first place.
Its just so hot and I am so very very whiney.
Worse, this is my only real weekend day. Grandparents will be here all day tomorrow. Had to run errands for my mother yesterday. And my one weeked day is spent cleaning.
Or rather thinking of things to do other than clean.
FUCK.
Why am I not more of a neat nik person? Why didn't I do this last weekend so it would only be touch ups this week? Why didn't we steam clean the carpets because they look like ass.
I wonder if I could convince my grandparents to not actually COME IN the house. Maybe they could just look at the outside. And then we will go out for pie.
I already know that no one will go for this plan. They will want to come in. They will come in. And no matter how clean it is it will not be clean enough. Because I do not live in a hospital. And also. I don't actually care.
I am thinking I need my mother to walk in and order me to get going. That I will not get to go out and play until this room is in order.
But she will not say this. She is thirty miles away, eeek sixty. Also, I am a grown up. She can't ground me anymore.
FUCK.
Clean AB CLEAN.
DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMNDAMNDAMNDMA
Alright alright. I am going.
