You are at home just chillin’, and suddenly the cleaning
lady is here. There is something about watching a stranger clean up your filth
in front of you that doesn’t bear thinking about. So you retreat to your room.
Honestly, this is happening to me right now. I’ve checked facebook, looked up
universities, stretched, thought a little bit. And now I’m hungry. But the
cleaning lady is upstairs. Maybe she’s even cleaning out the fridge. And if she
is there is no way I can pretend I was actually coming up for something else. I
only go up there to forage and watch TV and there’s no way I am watching TV
while she cleans my filth.
If there
was someone else here I could pull it off. As it is I am sure she already
thinks I am the world’s laziest almost-adult. Why am I not at work? If I’m not
why aren’t I cleaning my own house? Why am I dressed like a slob at 12:48 in
the afternoon?
I guess
I’ll just listen to music and eat my rug.
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