Monday, September 15, 2008

This Is Why I Don't

I know that my low caliber housekeeping seems like laziness or a choice but it's not. I'm saving my life by limiting my exposure to cleaning apparatus. Remember when I accidentally mixed cleaning products and almost asphyxiated myself?

Tonight I knew I didn't have a lot of work in me. The day has felt heavy, no real surprise, but still tiring. Still I don't want my house guests to be grossed out so I'm plugging along making things (relatively) shiny.

Now, back story, I bought a new mop sponge a while ago. It doesn't fit. Foolishly I assumed that no one would make different widths of attachment bolts for squeezy mops. I just figured they all go together. They don't. Just, you know, FYI. (Dear Mop People, Fuck you, you fucking fucks! Love, Kizz)

I decided I could do the floor of my postage stamp kitchen. Given the back story I was planning on my hands and knees the old fashioned and not-nearly-as-sexy-as-it-sounds way. So there I am bruising my kneecaps and having no fun doing it when I set something down on the counter and watch for an instantaneous eternity as a glass bottle of cat oil (don't ask, you already know I'm the crazy cat lady, you don't need more evidence) slid off the counter and shattered on the floor. Tiny shards of glass swimming in pools of stinky oil covering the only part of the floor that I'd actually cleaned. Pissed, freaked and cut off from the sink by a lake of digestive lubricant I wandered around finding paper towels and trying not to shred my feet.

So far just normal amounts of stupid and icky, I know, could have happened to anybody. In that next second, using a paper towel and the viscosity of the oil to sweep up the shards of glass I somehow managed to jam a slender shiv of brown bottle into the tender flesh between my fuck-off and my ring fingers.

Blood covered in stinky oil swirling down my hand.

And I still had to finish the work because you can't just leave glass and oil and stench marinating your floor tiles.

OK, I could but I know it'd be wrong. Very wrong. Bad wrong. So I didn't.

Fucking conscience.

12 comments:

  1. Cat oil? WTF. On second thought, I don't want to know.

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  2. Miflohny11:43 PM

    Hope you've recovered. Ouch and what a massive annoyance!!!

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  3. How many cats does it take to make a bottle of cat oil?

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  4. What a PITA and finger! Hope you're okay.

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  5. Dude, that sucks. It made for a funny story though.

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  6. Auntie, I'll do anything for content.

    Julia, it depends on the size of the bottle.

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  7. Your story almost made me cry.
    Wear shoes.

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  8. Owie! I'm sorry, Honey - that's not going to motivate one to more housekeeping, is it?

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  9. quit cleaning now. we don't give a shit!

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  10. I hate housecleaning. I hate that my mop sponge doesn't fit my mop very well either. I hate mopping anyway.

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  11. It is certainly not motivating me to do more housecleaning and last night I almost did it again! Narrowly avoided it. Yeesh. I'm keeping at it so no one dies by being smother in pet hair when they get here on Sat.

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  12. I did mostly stick to laundry related stuff last night. Laundry isn't stabby.

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