It’s a mitzvah
Once again, the impetus behind my semi-quasi-half-assed (but still!) massive cleaning effort today is not the desire to live an uncluttered, streak-free, dog hair-free life. Oh, no, I can live quite happily with clutter piled high and nose tracks on the windows, as evidenced by the state of the house. I do have some pride though, and I refuse to allow someone – anyone (other than John) – to see the house like this. Unless they helped put it that way. And unless they’re in John’s band. I don’t go to great lengths to clean up when the band comes over to rehearse. Although maybe I should. ANYway, I’m cleaning because we’re expecting a visitor this weekend. Not just a visitor – a refugee fleeing the hurricane. A refugee with cats! Because cats shouldn’t have to fend for themselves in the middle of a hurricane. Instead, they’ll have to fend for themselves in a house with dogs. Honestly, I’m not sure which they’d prefer. We’ll manage just fine. Although based on the weather right now, it seems totally ridiculous to be planning for a hurricane. It’s sunny, a little muggy, bright blue sky, fluffy white clouds that are not in the least bit intimidating…
Oh, speaking of intimidating, I passed a car yesterday (a dinky, dented, old Honda or something – not impressive (not that there’s anything wrong with Hondas – I’m just painting a picture)) with the license plate DOMN8U. Really? In that car? Napoleon complex much? It’s so aggressive and hateful. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.
Update: My house will not be a haven for hurricane refugees after all. But hey – it’s clean! So I can enjoy that. And I’ll see my refugee friend in a couple of weeks. All is well.