My house has never been the “cleanest” in the world. It's not even up there with the top ten cleanest houses. No, on the clean scale, my house has always looked like I had five children lurking somewhere. This would be great, if I had five children, or even one child for that matter. But I don't. No, I don't even have a roommate to blame the mess on. Nope, my mess is just that. Mine.
Now, don't get me wrong, I don't like my home like this. It has driven me bonkers since the fourth month I've been here. I happen to be going on three years now. It's just, I never have the time to clean it. So, what do I do? I invite my Grandma for a week. Need I reiterate, my Grandmother! Not that I don't want her here, it's just that...well...she might have a heart attack if she were to see my house (in it's present state, of course). I can see the headlines now, “Murder by Mess,” or something like that. Today, is Friday, she's coming on Monday. Monday, as in two very short days from now. What have I done? Bring me a fainting couch, I think I may have a use for it in the very near future.
I called my best friend, Yemi. Now, Yemi is very yummy. However, as a best friend, he is unattainable. Ah yes, his name. It's a bit odd, for a blonde, blue eyed, pale faced man to carry the name of Yemi. Believe it or not, he's from Africa. I'm not kidding. His parents are missionaries and they let the tribe name him. Thus, Yemi. I met him almost ten years ago, at church, when he moved in with his aunt and uncle. At that time he was a pimple-covered-sun burnt teen. Add large, unattractive, glasses to the picture and man have you got a piece of work. I'm not even going to go into detail about me, but let's just say...we befriended, matured, and got a sense of fashion together.
Oh! Right...my house. While he was driving himself over I went to the coat closet to pull out my books. On my way over, I not only tripped over a basket of clothes, but also stubbed my toe (on something buried deep in a pile of who-knows what) which lead to a series of hopping...that of course had me hopping on something hard. Which had me then leaping head-first into the open closet; knocking the not-so-neatly-stacked boxes and books onto my head then my lap, and ending with the boxes spilling their contents on the floor.
This is how Yemi found me. Books covering and surrounding my person, my high-pitched yelps making it to his ears before he even got a chance to close his car door. I heard him chuckle as he opened my screen door, and I must say...those books were looking like very good missiles by that point. After seeing my glare, he tactfully kept quiet as he came over and unburied me from the book cave, I had managed to put myself in, and then helped me maneuver to the couch.
After convincing him I wasn't going to die from the bruises that were already appearing in random places on my showing skin, not to mention the covered skin, Yemi and I got my six bookcases from the basement. Err, rather, he got them from from the basement. I was, um, helping by directing him where I wanted them. Well...I didn't want to break a nail! No, actually I refuse to go into my basement. No, I'm not going to explain why. No. Well...um...no. Back to the main story. Yemi put them together, and was about to help me gather my books, when Kendra called. As in his girlfriend Kendra. His very “I want you to do this...no, don't do that...why are you friend's with her?” girlfriend. He looked at me while on the phone, his expression a mixture of sadness and apology. I shrugged and went back to rescuing my tornado struck books from their deadly piles. Yemi talked for a bit longer; I ignored him. I didn't even even turn when his phone closed. Even when I heard him carefully traverse through the “no man's land” of genre grouped books, I pretended he wasn't there.
I looked at Yemi as he crouched beside me, “Sorry, I...” he started, but I wouldn't let him finish. I pressed the fingers of my right hand to his lips, “I know,” I interrupted his excuse for her, “I can do this by myself. You take care of Kendra. I'm sure your assistance in helping her pick out her newest purse...or whatever she needs you for...is very important, and you must save her from making a very wrong choice. It is, of course, your sworn duty as a boyfriend.” Dropping my hand from his lips, I studied my hand as if just seeing it. It's dusky hue taunting me, reminding me of why Yemi was with Kendra and not me.
Yemi placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, snapping me from my reverie. “I really am sorry.”
I shook my head, “No, it's fine. I'm fine. You go. Call me later.” I smirked, getting in in one last blow, “You're so whipped.” I forced a giggle and went back to work. Seemingly ignoring him as he left, but really feeling every footstep tread a path on my heart.
After I heard his car leave my driveway, I took the book I was holding, and forcing myself not to throw it, sat it delicately in the pile of similar books. I slumped back into the edge of the bookcase behind me. How can I clean this, on my own, before Monday? And why was Yemi with such an evil woman?
Forcing myself to get up, I snaked my way through the books, the piles of clean (and dirty) clothes, past the old take out boxes and bags, through the wall hangings still waiting to be hung, into the kitchen, Going to the refrigerator I yanked open the freezer door, and pulled out a pint of Ben and Jerry's New York Chocolate chocolate chip, grabbed one of the last clean spoons from the drawer, and made my way back to the living room. I flopped myself on my, only half covered in clothes, couch. Settling myself into the cushions, I sighed and flicked off the lid. “Mmmm.”
Finishing the pint, as I'm getting ready to go back to work, I realize...I can't clean on an empty stomach! I needed some sustenance. So, I called Jim's Pizza down the road and ordered a Canadian bacon, sausage, and mushroom. 45 minutes; not too bad. I reached over, picking up one of my latest novel purchases and started reading. I promised myself I would clean after I ate.
40 minutes later, the pizza arrived; I ate over half of it. What? It was good! Anyway after finishing my meal of wonderful pizza, I, of course, looked around the room and promptly fell asleep.
* * * * *
Waking up in a state of shock, I realized I had slept all night! And not just that, I had still not done a stitch of work! My air came faster and shorter. What, oh WHAT am I going to do? Calm down, girl. Breathe. I took a deep breath. “Hoooo,” and let it out. Now, it can't be that late in the morning, can it? Never mind that the sun is almost fully in the sky. Taking a look at the clock almost sends me into another panic attack. It's 11:30! I don't thing I've ever slept this late...since college. Granted, I just graduated a month ago, but honestly who checks the details?
Leaping from the couch, I landed on the book I was reading last night, that just happened to be hardcover. I howled in agony, as I fall back onto the couch. Even as I examine injured limb, I pledge to not let this mess get the best of me. It really was a moot point that I still had a ton of boxes to get unpacked and out of the house. Never mind the mass quantities of clothes needing to be washed, folded, and put away. And the moldy food in the kitchen can wait just a bit longer.
After whining to efficiency about my foot, I leaned over to pick up the offending item. For a minute or two I thought about hurling the book into the next room, but not really knowing if I would make it that far I thought better of it, and instead just place it on the couch. Grabbing the leftover pizza, I realized with great sadness that it had been out all night...and should technically go in the into the trash. I stuck it in the fridge. Hey, it could could have survived.
* * * * *
Now, it's back to work and back to organizing my books. Being the semi-anal person that I am, I decided that if I'm going to put my books on the shelves, I might as well do it in some organized manner. After clearing a path from my living room to my “coat” closet, I try to pick up the first box of books I came to. I grunt, and groan, then I wonder who the idiot was that packed these boxes so full, after choosing 20' boxes in the first place. Remembering that I was the idiot, I debated climbing into the closet, and never coming out. However, the fear of being lost in a sea of books, again, made me rethink that option.
Instead, I unloaded the books right next to the closet. Unfortunately, I can't find any large flat surfaces to use for organizing my books. I sigh; this is going to be a long day. Looking at the phone, I debated with myself about calling Yemi again. Then chose not to, figuring he would call if he wanted to help. That is, if Kendra was willing to let him out of her sight. I looked at the box I had just started to unpack, figuring I had removed enough weight for it to be manageable, and pointing my finger in it's direction I scolded “Alright, you, I'm the boss around her...and you are moving over there!” Just for good measure, encase it hadn't understood where it was going I pointed into the living room. Leaning over I tried to lift the box again. Didn't budge. One more time. Utter failure. Alright, we'll try it butt down. “Grrr!” Success!
After all 10 boxes of books were in the living room...including the extra books I had taken out of each to make them manageable to lift, I went into my bedroom to get more of the books I'd acquired within the last three years. There were only 30. If I hadn't had so much school, I'm sure there would have been more. Anyway, I went back to the piles I'd started last night...fantasy, romance, classics, Christian, horror, mystery, drama, and non-fiction. At that point I realized I was hungry again...but had just “booked” myself into the room. I put the horror genre onto the shelves to try and clear a path.
Having finished separating and putting a small selection of books away (alphabetically by author, of course), I barely had the energy to get to the fridge...but I made it. With the utmost care for the many items collecting on the floor. Then I realized, there would be no better time to clear out the fridge, than when I was making myself something to eat. Opening the door, I noticed something that eluded me when I had shoved the pizza in there. The smell of moldy...something. “Ugh!” I slam the door closed, and decided Chinese take out would be the best option.
After placing my usual order, with my usual Chinese delivery place, I maneuvered my way back to my living room. This time choosing to plop myself closest to the front door, in my plush-outrageously-orange chair, I picked up one of the books that had caught my attention while I was separating them and started to read. Entranced in the enthralling tale of a historical Russian world, everything else seemed to disappear I am literally transported back in time, and over the continents until I am jolted back to reality when the doorbell rang. I was so startled that I dropped the book. Then realizing just what had brought me back to reality, I grabbed a $20 from my purse and jerked open the door.
“Grandma...er...” I stepped out onto my porch as I tried to keep her from the “death view” “..hi.”
