Dirt
September 12, 2006

Fucking A, I have a mess of an apartment. The dirt level is insane. To a normal person, it would not be bothersome. But Type A cannot handle it. Everywhere I turn I see something that could be cleaned. I am going to have to spend the night away from it otherwise I will scream. I need a merry, merry maid stat. Why I struggle with the decision to hire one is beyond me (aside from the fact that I do not think that they will do as good of a job as I would, the ridicoulsness being I do not have the time to do any job). If I could hire someone to handle the rest of the mess that life causes I would gladly hand over $60. Yet, I struggle with this decision, when it is just that easy. Amazing what we sweat over. Can someone come in to edit my documents, research assignments and reports? Clean up my inbox? Can I pay somone to take off those last 10 pounds? Pay all my bills? Have my teeth cleaned for me? This is an easy one.

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To continue with the dirt theme of the day. I just walked into the bathroom after lunch, carrying my purse and a large cup of soda and ice. My bag got caught on the door handle of the bathroom, caused me to trip and fall forward. My cup flew across the room spraying the entire bathroom with diet coke and ice. Talk about a mess. One that I had to clean up too.

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