It's funny to me, perhaps not to you, that the second my wife leaves town, I stop being dilligent.
My clothes end up lying helter skelter across chairs, piled on the side of the bed, blocking the bathroom threshold, a couple of mismatched socks in the shower. Dishes pile up, stacked precariously on unopened mail and sunglasses. Garbage cans over-flow. Smells give birth to offense.
Food choices made based on pretty pictures on boxes, bags or cans, often discarded based on excessive microwaving time. Checkers glance at me simpathetically as they scan my choices, noticing the lack of fruits, vegetables or cleaning products.
Cats stare in confusion, evidently unaware that humans can produce odors that overpower their own.
It's pathetic I know, but I'm pretty sure I'd be able to put a demo tape together for a future episode of "Hoarders".
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