I am currently running around my house in a last-ditch effort during my lunch break to get it halfway clean so that I am not ashamed to have people step inside my house, as opposed to just huddling on the front porch. And you should probably know, dear readers, that I am doing this dressed in my work pants and my bra.
Yep, sexy housewife.
I was doing dishes and whatnot, and I still have to go back to work, so I don't need any soap bubbles getting on my blouse before I go back to work. You know I wouldn't want it to cover up that toothpaste stain or wrinkled mess that I so painstakingly pulled out of the bottom of the pile this morning at about 3 minutes til I needed to leave.
But the worst thing is, I'm really freaking paranoid about this-darting from one room to the next. Because the last time I did this, my oh-so-kind neighbor happened to see my vehicle outside and stopped by and rang the doorbell to invite us over for a get-to-know-you supper. I don't think that was the kind of get-to-know-you he was expecting at noon on a work day, so I just hid in the kitchen until I was sure he was gone.
Normal day at the Meenen Manor.
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