I know the feeling. Neatness doesn’t even want me around.
I buy them collapsible clothes-closet hang-er-up thingies and they writhe and curl up like salted caterpillars at my very touch. My idea of an efficient filing system is a stack of 1,000 pieces of random paper and 1,000 different folders to put them in. Basically, I lose things easily, so I think I want, deep down, to keep everything I own visible at all times. This does not make for an esthetically pleasing home.
Right now I’m sippin’ weak coffee (which I semi-hate - semi- because I made it myself), sittin’ on a folding stepstool in my kitchen and goin’ tap tap at the Dope on the PowerBook - my first MMP. (I saw a cartoon years ago of a guy all wrapped up like a mummy, and that’s the sound he made. MMP! MMP!)
This folding stepstool is potentially dangerous. Twice now it’s only unfolded almost all the way when I pull it towards my butt to sit, and when it does extend fully as my weight settles down, it has caught the tip of my right index finger each time. No bloodshed, but it strikes me that this may not be the ideal sitting tool for an uncaffeinated ADD-ridden individual at 8:00am.
In my perfect world, I would have a gang over to help me tidy up, with copious alcohol and BBQ and a bonfire and orgy-tastic dancing afterwards. Unfortunately, all my friends are men or married women, and there ain’t that many of either. And I live in an apt bldg, and bonfires are not allowed.
Asaburring (as Tom Lehrer calls it) is here, sorta, mid 40s and partly meh. Yesterday was nice. Met the rents for a catwalk - yes, the family cat gets walked. In a kitty stroller that looks like a big mailbox on wheels made of mesh. Along the way we met a woman with a teeny doxhund in a much more compact baby-type stroller, so now my mom wants that for the kitty.
Do I have to post a picture now that I’ve mentioned the kitty?
I’ll stop there. Happy Mummyday. MMP MMP!