Saturday, July 23, 2016

DUST BUNNIES AND YOGA PANTS

The new washer and dryer are supposed to arrive tomorrow.  This means I have to clear a path.  Easy, you say?  Clearly you have never met me, my stuff, and my closet-less space.

First, I move den furniture so the delivery people have full access to get to the cellar door.  Then, I move shelves of games and sports equipment that have taken over the cellar stairs landing.  After that, I clear off random shit that is halfway up/halfway down the stairs, like windshield washer fluid and folded tarps.  Last, I move the old washer and the old dryer out of their spaces and clean behind them.

End result = organized chaos

A friend calls me and asks me over for drinks, and I answer, "Your timing is perfect!  I just finished getting the space ready for the delivery guys!"  She gives me a target time of fifteen minutes.  No problem, right?
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This is when I look down.

I am wearing black yoga pants and a gray tank top, or, at least, I WAS wearing these things.  My clothing is coated in dust, fuzzies, and cobwebs.  I look like The Creature from the Dust Lagoon.  My entire midsection from boobs to knees looks like an uncleaned lint trap.

A quick change, a little spritz, and I'm off for drinks.  Darn good thing the washer and dryer are coming today.  Of course, if they weren't, I wouldn't look like this.