There aren’t many things worse for a humor writer than trying to write when you have nothing to write about.
Nothing worse except trying to put your physical house in order knowing guests are coming.
I’d rather write about nothing than attempt cleaning and restoring order to my home.
I’m a creative person.
I create. I don’t clean.
I still don’t know when she will arrive. I’m hoping it is post house disaster and not during the eye of the storm.
I’m not what you would call a good housekeeper.
My philosophy about a home is that things should be handy. Thus, in my house you will find bathroom items in the living room, kitchen items in the bedroom (don’t ask), and personal items everywhere except where they belong.
But I keep trying.
When I heard Jody was coming for a visit I didn’t immediately panic. I waited for the second e-mail to confirm that panic mode was necessary.
That was three days ago.
So far I have:
• Planned how I would hide all of the stuff that is currently in the living room that is not either furniture or snack items.
• Passed Wal-Mart twice knowing I needed to go inside to purchase those suck-em-closed bags needed to hide the 4 different sizes of clothes that don’t fit but that I can’t get rid of because I have plans on being that size again before I die.
• Made a list of all the things I’ve lost in hopes of knowing they were lost when I find them.
• Decided not to throw everything out of my very crowded office and decided not to burn all the stuff while it is still inside the office.
• Made mental notes on the things that would survive a week in the attic and plotted who I could convince that their help is imperative in my plan and for my health.
• Had a passing thought about how to get the dust bunnies to leave the house for a few days.
• Looked at the bathroom rugs that need to be washed AND dried AND put back down on the floor.
• Pondered the yarn situation in my house and wondered if Jody would think 497 skeins constitutes an obsession or a mental illness.
• Gave up on hiding the ink pens. Surely a writer can understand the need for 1,283 pens (some still in working order) in one house.
• Looked twice at the pool. Looked 3 times to make sure there are two floats of sufficient size with glass holders.
• Checked the margarita supplies daily.
• Checked the wine supply hourly.
• Sampled the wine to make sure it is up to my low standards.
• Gave up on removing the refrigerator from the front porch before she arrives.
• Gave in and gave up.
• Hired a teenager, who surely has more energy and less pain than I have, to help clean.
Now I am praying Jody arrives after the teenager completes her work and before the dust bunnies return and I have a day or so to restore chaos to the house.
Are you listening Jody?
From the life and mind of:
Wanda M. Argersinger
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