Today, I said to myself, You are going to clean up this mess. Have you ever walked into a room and just screamed? I do it all the time... I don't know how it get's this messy, it just does somehow. Really! I didn't do it! ....Okay... stop giving me the evil eye...it was me...
Anyway...Heaps upon heaps of books, papers, (old smelly forgotten sandwiches...), clothes I didn't even know I owned, pencils and pens sticking up just waiting to be stepped upon, and maybe even the occasional cat-toy all held together with a mix of hair gel and lord-knows-what.
One of the little voice inside my head said, "Why not just leave it and hire a cleaning lady to do it? Or you could ask your mom..." and then my other little voice shrills, "Her mother?! ARE YOU INSANE?! The minute she looks at this mess we're ALL dead. Including you George." "Shut it Martha." that first voice grumbled. Then the second voice directs her tone at me and says, "Please, for your sake and mine, (maybe even George) please clean up this pig pen."
Yes, i know. I'm weird.
Charging in, clad in a toxic waste bio-hazard suit equipped with my own breathing apparatus (it's amazing
what you can find on the internet), and in my hands was every cleaning tool known to man. For three whole
hours I battled grime, mold, and smelly socks (who knew socks were touchy? They really didn't want to go...
I know this because the first one i picked up shouted a curse and began gnawing on my gloved hand) and
finally I could see the floor. After a few more hours it was presentable.
Why, you ask me, made you decide to clean it? Well I'll tell you... The aliens made me do it!
Okay, okay, stop looking at me like that! The REAL reason then...
Actually, it's better if you use your imagination ^_~
What horror cleaning stories do you have? Tell me! I'd love to hear from you ^_~
(I do not own the picture by the way... it just looked a lot like what i had)
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