The Others

So, I’m not feeling very well today. Sore throat, sniffles. But apparently I look alright, because 2 people came up and said ‘wooo…looking good today!’ Make-up and Spanx, kids…don’t leave home without them.

Anyway, when I feel like crap, the last thing – the VERY last thing – I feel like doing is cleaning my apartment. I mean, taking a shower is an effort. You expect me to CLEAN it too? Lord have mercy.

Except I have to. I’m having some visitors this weekend – visitors for whom ‘ye must clean’. You know who I mean.

Now, I'm not a pig. I like having a clean place...it's just not at the top of my priority list, you know? But there are people you can invite over when your apartment is a COMPLETE disaster – I mean dirty floor, hair all over the bathroom, toothpaste marks in the sink, skid marks in the toilet, dust on your TV stand, dog hair on your carpet, clothing strewn all over the dresser instead of IN it (who’d a thunk?) – and you KNOW they don’t give a shit. They’re like ‘Dude, where’d you put my mix?’

Then there are ‘THOSE’ people. The ones who say “I don’t care WHAT your place looks like!” But you know…they judge. And God forbid there be any mess because next thing you know there is a rumour floating around that you are a depressed alcoholic who can’t take care of herself. Oh, wait a minute…

So, I’m having THOSE people over this weekend, and now I have to clean. Bathroom, bedroom, change sheets, vacuum and dust. And I’m not feeling well.

Fuck.