My Living Room Hates Me
Google tells me that ink can be removed from the dryer drum with a Magic Eraser.
We'll see about that.
Today I will be arranging the furniture back into it's pre-holiday formation. I'm tired of kicking the coffee table every time I need to get back into the corner to turn on a lamp, and the empty gaping hole in front of the fireplace-less mantle is staring at me, taunting me, just waiting for the chair that sits to the side of it. I think my living room hates me. Evidence of this: total of 3 outlets in the room, 2 of them placed in the most inconvenient places ever. The only thing one of them is good for is plugging in the vacuum, and even then it's iffy, ever since The Earner zapped the outlet with the mis-wired plug of the old vacuum. Don't let the scorch mark deter you from plugging in the cell phones to charge, though.
Every lamp in the room is strung with extension cords all leading back to the one outlet that is not in the middle of a traffic area (trust me, we're not walking around the perimeter of the room, it's hard to explain but the outlet is just in a really BAD place), and I'm constantly on high alert for cord management issues. Draping a lap blanket over the arm of the couch isn't met with "watch the cord!" at other homes, is it? Does vacuuming the carpet involve 3 handlers and a supervisor in other houses? Because lifting the extensions, watching the connections, managing the legs of furniture, balancing the weight of the cords with the shakiness of the table the lamp is not an easy job and might explain the current state of the floor in this room.
I think I just figured out a career for myself. Much like SNL's "Good Excuses" skit, I could provide a service whereby people could call me for excuses as to why they can't do housework. I would be awesome at this, and no situation would go without blame placed somewhere other than on the slovenly person.
Surely there's a market for this?
We'll see about that.
Today I will be arranging the furniture back into it's pre-holiday formation. I'm tired of kicking the coffee table every time I need to get back into the corner to turn on a lamp, and the empty gaping hole in front of the fireplace-less mantle is staring at me, taunting me, just waiting for the chair that sits to the side of it. I think my living room hates me. Evidence of this: total of 3 outlets in the room, 2 of them placed in the most inconvenient places ever. The only thing one of them is good for is plugging in the vacuum, and even then it's iffy, ever since The Earner zapped the outlet with the mis-wired plug of the old vacuum. Don't let the scorch mark deter you from plugging in the cell phones to charge, though.
Every lamp in the room is strung with extension cords all leading back to the one outlet that is not in the middle of a traffic area (trust me, we're not walking around the perimeter of the room, it's hard to explain but the outlet is just in a really BAD place), and I'm constantly on high alert for cord management issues. Draping a lap blanket over the arm of the couch isn't met with "watch the cord!" at other homes, is it? Does vacuuming the carpet involve 3 handlers and a supervisor in other houses? Because lifting the extensions, watching the connections, managing the legs of furniture, balancing the weight of the cords with the shakiness of the table the lamp is not an easy job and might explain the current state of the floor in this room.
I think I just figured out a career for myself. Much like SNL's "Good Excuses" skit, I could provide a service whereby people could call me for excuses as to why they can't do housework. I would be awesome at this, and no situation would go without blame placed somewhere other than on the slovenly person.
Surely there's a market for this?
posted by Lisa at 11:26 AM
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