Feeling: silly
Listening to: cheesy country music
Reading/Watching: Clue on TV

Bear is bringing home her gentleman friend for the first time, and my mother is losing her mind.

She is currently scrubbing the bathrooms, and just asked me to vacuum her bedroom. She vacuumed the rest of the house last night, but apparently Bear's boyfriend is going to judge us by the state of the lint in the carpet of my parents' room. A room he may not even see, but he will judge it.

I really wonder if I'm going to get to that point someday. Basing my hypothesis on genetics, I probably will become Frantic Hostess just like my mom, but my common sense tends to disagree (since I usually check for dead bodies or rotting food, but otherwise chill out when company comes), so we'll see which wins out: common sense or chromosomes.

If I do become Psycho Bathroom Scrubbing Lady, I will definitely make mon coeur do the dusting. I fricking hate dusting.

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