I think we might be destined to live in a federally-proclaimed disaster area.
I was just looking at pictures of other couples' apartments and--even the ones that bemoan how cluttered and messy they are--they're SPOTLESS compared to ours. Our laundry is in a giant, unfolded pile, our dinner dishes from last night are still in the sink, there is an extra computer in the middle of the living room, the bathroom needs scrubbed...I could go on but it's starting to stress me out. Like watching an episode of "Hoarders."
It's just that we have so many more interesting things to do when we get home in the evening than CLEAN. Like last night. I think I laughed for an hour just because we sat and TALKED and drank beer after dinner. Seriously: my abs are sore today.
I can remember lots of lonely nights in a clean apartment in the past and I wouldn't trade this for the world.
Well, baby I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you...