This is what my house looks like right now, its mocking me…
Someone once walked into my house once and said this, “You’re either a genius or psychologically disturbed.” Can’t I be both?
Which was funny to me because the said person came to my house because they wanted vicodin. Really? I wouldn’t judge the dealer.
I haven’t cleaned my house for the past three months because I’ve been busy working. I just got done writing, performing, directing and producing my one woman show, How Did I Get Here?
If I could draw a picture of how my head actually feels it would look like this.
I wish I could give my house an antidepressant and it would magically feel better. I wish I had a self-cleaning house, like my oven.
I have reached my limit on multitasking.
I am not a social person, but I have been doing everything not to be here.
I get it, my mom told me when you pick something up you either put it or throw it away. Except my brain doesn’t work that way. It goes while I am taking my coke can to the recycle bin, lets just check my email, take a phone call, walk the dogs..
The mess begins so small too, but it grows and grows until you have nowhere to step in your apartment.
I hate cleaning.
