Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Afraid to Move

I love my little house. I love that it is still a work in progress. I love the potential inherent in its manifold weakness. I love that it is mine and that it is a place where I can have things the way I want them.

I’ve had a cleaner in. Not that it needed a cleaner* you understand. The house was perfectly tidy. Granted I had accumulated the odd bit of bric-a-brak that I didn’t need but nothing on a significant scale.

The thing is; my boss from Ireland is coming to stay, for three weeks, with his wife, and I want the place to be nice for them. Just ordinary householder’s pride really. So I decided that the way to have the house really clean (as opposed to ‘boy clean’†) was to get a cleaner in.

Anyhow Jelena has done a Stirling job. Such a good job, in fact, that almost any activity I can think of is guaranteed to make the place less perfect. For those of a mathematical disposition‡;

So I’m just going to sit here and be very quiet...


* It is quite clear to me now that it actually did need a cleaner.

† More than tidy but less than certain-not-to-give-you-the-plague.

‡ I'm looking at you Dave


Rational Root said...

I think most readers will need a little context...'s_laws_of_motion

Or more specifically

Tenwit said...

Can't you just rent a studio apartment in Coogee and call it your bach? I'm pretty sure your boss' wife doesn't actually want to stay with you for three weeks, and any way out of it would earn you her long-lasting respect* and gratitude.

Also, you'd be able to move around your own house again. Just think of all that mobility! Six paces north-south, two paces east-west!

( ;P )

* Earning everlast respect from wives of bosses takes a LOT more than just that.