12:53 p.m. - 2005-03-03
I have a bathroom floor. And a kitchen counter. For real.
I also have demonstrated that I can avoid the gym for days on end. I really want to go today, but I really need to finish my archeological dig. Did I say "archeological dig?" Silly me. I meant "cleaning my apartment so my mother won't cry and give me the guilt trip I get when she comes to visit and it's a mess."
It probably sounds like my mom and I don't get along, which is really not true at all. We just happen to have completely different standards for what constitutes "clean." My definition is "can walk through all rooms of apartment without tripping on anything." Her definition is "completely neat, organized, and has no evidence of dust, cat hair, or other detritus." This was the source of much conflict during my formative years. She had this silly idea that I should remove my boxes of shit from the floor. This was in high school. Said boxes contained notes, papers, etc. from prior classes. I knew I might need them someday. I thought that the floor of my room was a perfectly good place for them, since I would be able to immediately locate them when they were needed. One day, mommy threatened to throw my boxes away if I did not organize the materials therein and put them somewhere besides in a box on the floor. I, of course, chalked this up as an idle threat, because the clutter in my room made her claustrophobic (she says), and I didn't think she'd actually go in there.
I was wrong.
She threw away my boxes.
A month later, I needed the stuff that had been in them.
I'm sure my screams of frustration and rage were heard in the next county.
So anyway, as part of my excavation, I decided I needed another shelf for stuff. I located one, unassembled, for $10 at the Evil Empire.
I then proceeded to shamelessly whine to BFRB about how bad I am at putting things together. Graciously, she agreed to put it together for me. I did provide her with a power tool to assist in the process.
During the assembly, she sent various IM's cussing about the shelf. I offered to help as needed, but she declined. Probably a good move on her part, since me and assembly don't always mix well. However, she was successful, and now I have a shelf. She was profusely thanked.
I should post a picture of it. But I'm lazy as hell, and I don't feel like deleting all the pictures off my camera right now so I can take and upload new ones. Therefore, I'm going to share some totally unrelated pictures. I was going to save these for the appropriate holidays, but I hate waiting. These are what happens when two bored, broke people go to Target.
All of the pleasure...none of the guilt. They now make STUFFED marshmallow Peeps...both big and little. I really wanted the big one. Surely they will have it left on clearance for $2.00 after Easter, right?
I really wanted the hat, too. BFRB is no fun with all her reminders of being job-free and broke.
Okay. I really need to complete the Quest for Cleanliness, so I can resume the Quest for Gainful Employment. (I have sent some resumes, but of course, have heard not a word. Maybe I should start promising free blow jobs in my cover letters.)