Last night around 7:30, Matt came home from work. Dinner had been sitting on the counter for about an hour. The entire house was in shambles with projects in careless piles everywhere. And I mean everywhere. A mound of dishes was in the sink because someone who's had that chore for over 7 years running, just can't remember to load the dishwasher. They blamed it on person who's had the unloading job for the same amount of time -- for not doing their job. The Unloader said they simply forgot to unload. I ask you, how do you forget a job that you've had for over 7 years? How????
Matt took 1 bite of Chinese chicken salad and said "Greg is coming over in a few minutes to work on his car." I just about died. I hate it when I don't get an advance visitor warning when the house looks like it's been hit by a bomb.
Five minutes later, the doorbell rang, and in walked Greg. Don't need to tell you I was totally embarrassed. It seems like this happens to me a lot. People show up and my house looks like the show Hoarders.
So today, I offer proof that my house isn't always a disaster. Between the hours of 7:00 and 2:00, my house looks quite nice -- especially after it's been cleaned.
Eve, make sure Greg sees this photo please so I can redeem myself.
In a few minutes it's going to look like a disaster again, because it's now 3:30. Guess who's home . . . .
P.S. Kathy, please leave a comment and tell people I was a really clean roommate. :)