wrod. Also, ew, But wrod.

I once had to go into a hoarder's house. It's real hard to clear the bar that set for unacceptable levels of cleanliness.

Zenkitty,

can you wrap a narrative around that? Why did you have to go into a hoarder's house?

But catsitting can have litterbox cleaning, or if you're lucky, non-litterbox cleaning.

Is "non-litterbox cleaning" the cleaning of other parts of the house that aren't the litterbox?

Our friend who pet-sits, bless his heart, always sweeps up the mountain of Kato fur at the end of the week, even though we tell him to not bother *if* he's just doing it because he thinks we expect to come home to a non-furry house. Because we are SO used to the horrifying amounts of fur that dog sheds. (However, if he's sweeping it up because *he* can't stand to live with it, well, then I'm just glad we pay him to pet-sit, because that's a lot of damn fur to be sweeping up and/or living with.)

I once had to go into a hoarder's house.

Tommyrot posted a link in Natter yesterday about Dita von Teese; it was an article that described, among other things, how she collects hats (and, in fact, has so many that they have their own ROOM) and collects taxidermied animals. Tim, predictably, loves Dita, so I showed him the article, and when he was done reading it, he said, "I think DIta von Teese has more crap in her house than *I* do!"

I didn't know that was humanly possible.

(Actually, I know we aren't near hoarder classification, but the possibility always freaks me out because I can see it lurking around a corner [behind the oscilloscope and antique egg incubator] if we aren't careful.)

Oscilloscope!

Yeah, I know, not helping.

t random

I am playing Words with Friends game and could have gotten a high score spelling the word "dyke". I didn't because the woman I am playing is gay I did not want to offend her.

Points for avoiding possible offense or just being silly since it is other things than slang for a gay woman?

t /random

Depends on the opponent, at least for me.

Steph, at least there isn't a drill press in your driveway.

Aims,

I believe caution is your friend. You get points from me. It isn't currency though.

le n., it was my damn house, and she was renting it. She was living downstairs, and there were other renters upstairs who were almost as bad as she was. They had 9 animals in the house and apparently never cleaned. She... well. She'd been a friend of mine, in fact had lived with me for three years, some years before that, and I'd thought, who better to rent to than someone you already know? I mean, I knew she was a bit of a slob, but whatever. Then the rent stopped coming, and then the renters disappeared, and I had to go back to Tennessee to find out WTF was going on.

The house was AWFUL. Fossilized cat poo an inch thick on the floor. 16 leaking bags of stinky garbage in the foyer. Cigarette butts and ashes spilling out of an ashtray *on the bed*. Rotting food in molding dishes piled so high in the sink some of them had fallen out and broken. Piles of junk and worn clothing and trash everywhere. Don't even think about the bathroom, the toilet had clogged at some point and... just don't think about it. The only thing an episode of Hoarders has that she didn't was actual dead animals. (The cats were unhappy, but alive and basically well.)

As far as I can put it together, because she never communicated with me again, she lost her job and then just hid in the house and didn't come out again. I don't think she'd completely broken with reality, I think she just could not deal anymore. She just walked away from everything. Literally: I saw her walking away as I drove up, and she didn't respond to my greeting; I thought she would be back later but she didn't come back. (Turned out she'd moved back to her grandma's place in Nebraska. The other guys were in the wind, and I was out about $3000.) Going after her seemed pointless. So I had to take care of the house and the cats she left behind. (I gave them to my mom, and they lived the rest of their years as farm cats.)

So. Like I said. Whatever your house looks like? I've seen worse. If you can clean up the mess without a shovel and a face mask, I've cleaned worse. Cat barf? psht. That can be cleaned up with a paper towel. I won't leave it for too long*, but I won't jump out of bed for it either.

*If I know about it. Look, sometimes they barf behind boxes and you don't find it for weeks, okay? And then you have to repaint a door. It happens. I love my cats; they are affectionate and beautiful and GETDOWNFROMTHERENOW

I once had to go into a hoarder's house. It's real hard to clear the bar that set for unacceptable levels of cleanliness.

I am not Zen, but I totally endorse this sentiment and actually have an amazing story to prove it. The story involves a Pulitzer nominee and a buried Barcalounger.

I've never judged anyone's cleanliness harshly after that.