About two weeks ago I was sitting in a bar discussing woes,
as one does at a bar
-and no, I wasn't at The Four Faced Liar,
I was at a different bar,
and I told my friends that I needed a maid,
because I was just too darn messy to keep up the place
And they said,
"You can't be that bad. We'll help!"
Well, those brave souls, Van and Jen came over
and they saw a sight they never imagined they'd see.
"Oh my God, Sue. How can you live like this?" Van said in utter shock.
Jen pokes her head into my room, "It's been worse."
I nod my head in agreement.
Van just stood back in utter horror for a moment,
unsure whether to flee
or just douse the piles of clothing, paper, and water bottles strewn about the room in Lysol and throw a match at it and call it a day.
Then, she took a deep breath and jumped in.
"Where does this go?
Do you need this?
Do you even still have the device that this was once a part of?"
Van had patience, I had piles to sort,
and Jen - bless her heart, had a bathroom to scrub.
These ladies saved my already constantly nauseous ever thinning ass.
Will I keep it clean?
Already, I'm looking around my room like I'm a visitor,
trying to find a way to mess it up
so it feels like home.
The moral of the story: Never make promises in bars
And I have the best most wonderfully helpful friends in the world
who tolerate my messy self.
Next Up: Elana, my other organizational friend, wants to try to organize my closet.
I've become a TLC challenge.