The Ick Factor

Hi, all.  Things have been hopping around here.  Between work, school, general animalia mayhem, and attempting to have a lively social life, I have been one busy Chicken Lady.  Perhaps, one could even say a Headless Chicken Lady...all sqwak-squwak-squwwwaking, with a little blood shed spread around the place.  Eeesh.  Anyway, it's been a fun weekend involving a grown-up Halloween party and a luxurious night in a swanky downtown hotel.  I swear, the shower was enormous and glassed in with a rainfall shower head and fancy lemon verbena soaps.  The bed about inhaled you with all kinds of downy softness and crisp white sheets.  Sigh. I wish I could have stayed longer....particularly when I got home and was confronted by this:

Just kidding.  Kind of.  This photo is actually a before picture from an episode of Hoarders, possibly one of the most motivating programs on television.  Watch an episode or two of the craziness that some people live in, and try not to leap off the sofa and start scrubbing.

Still, my house was a mess with layers of dog-cat-person-hair everywhere.  When you can't really remember when the last time you swept the floor, it's probably been a bit too long...by like a week.  I probably shouldn't reveal these things to you, lovely readers, but don't you feel better now that I have?  Yes, the Chicken Lady is quite often an overly busy, mostly sloppy grunge goddess.  I long for a British housekeeper to come along and keep me tidy.

That's actually not a bad idea.  I wonder, could my teeny budget afford a weekly housekeeper?  I wonder if it could also afford weekends in swanky hotels on a monthly basis?

Ahh, well.  Probably not both.  If I had to pick just one, I'd pick the hotel.  After all, you can't pass up the opportunity to lounge about in down and then have a good soak under a rainfall.

Back to scrubbing.  Laters, darlings!