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.

I love my cats; they are affectionate and beautiful and GETDOWNFROMTHERENOW

Hee.

Followed by HOWTHEHELLDIDYOUGETUPTHERE

Tim, predictably, loves Dita

Steph, does Tim have her book "The Art of the Teese"? Because I have it and would like to give it a new home.

The story involves a Pulitzer nominee and a buried Barcalounger.

I believe I've heard this story! And I think you win; my house wasn't literally filled to the ceiling with junk.

OMG Zenkitty.

Three thoughts:

1) that will teach me to ask for a narrative. Curiosity killed that cat. DED.

2) Unbelievable. Just unbelievable. I can't believe you didn't just say "fuck it" and light the house on fire. I am just shaking my head.

3) Zenkitty's story actually improved my mood. I am kind of messy sometimes, but DAMN. At least you can get into my house without a facemask!

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.

Oh dear lord. The Mystery Of The Hidden Hairball. Whenever I find one of these, I get murderous. Which makes no sense, because hairballs out on the open don't make me angry. It's just a thing.

Tim, predictably, loves Dita

Steph, does Tim have her book "The Art of the Teese"? Because I have it and would like to give it a new home.

I don't think so, but I will double-check when I get home and then I'll let you know.

Unbelievable. Just unbelievable. I can't believe you didn't just say "fuck it" and light the house on fire.

I was thinking that, too. Literally, the word "Arson!" popped into my head.

le nubian:

1) I TRIED to spare you! Not real hard, but I tried.

2) The temptation to commit arson was very strong. Especially considering that time in my life was one of my own low points for "dealing with shit". More than once I just sat down and cried. I cleaned up as best I could, because I couldn't afford to hire anyone, and then I sold it to a vulture investor. I made $75 profit on that house, which I'd owned for a decade. If I could have sold it for a comparable price to other houses around it, I'd have made $10,000. C'est la vie.

3) My point! Everyone judges housekeeping ability by what they know. I'm just expanding your field of reference.

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.

Oh! I was reading through old COMMs just yesterday and came across this one!

le n., it was my damn house, and she was renting it.

Hey, that's what happened to my house! I didn't have to see it though, being very far away. Spent thousands of dollars to get it presentable again though.

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

Exactly. At least litterboxes are designed for excretion, and the minimising is built in. But I'm not Hec. I read your guyses gross stories of your gross beasts. I know what they do, and I have no doubt they would have extra poop stored up to mix with extra pee as soon as I was on the clock.

Seriously, our outdoor dogs knew to crap in the flowerbeds Everything was so simple and perfect. The worst thing that happened was that I had to pretend to not be watching dog sex every now and again (I have no idea why my mother kept asking me to chaperone the dog. I was clearly not interested in *no* puppies)¹.

Oh, thank god. I had to google permission to spell it chaperone. Chaperone it is ::scrolls upwards::

I've never had the misfortune to even be in a hoarder's house, much less own one and have to clean it (seriously why aren't we allowed to give up more? Right--she gave up)² but my best friend and I used to visit a declining old woman (watch me learn she was really 60) during our lunch hour, and there was always a risk of...things. Things that smelt so bad we couldn't in good conscience leave them for another, more past-the-age-of-majority caregiver, or even the Meals on Wheels person and there was a lot of stifled squealing and gagging as we poured stuff down the toilet (if the toilet wasn't the problem) and sometimes cutting the visit short if we were too shaken to make conversation (it's not like we had to make different conversation from the visit before, but still. She did deserve us putting some effort and sincerity into it.

I hate saying it, just in case, but I do remind myself when I'm being helped by a nurse/pedicurist/massage therapist/anybody who works close that it's really unlikely that I'm gonna be the worst they've ever seen, or even the worst this week.

Then again--someone is! Cheering thought, isn't it?

My mother does apologise whenever she plays JEW or any variant, but if it's in the dictionary I don't mind if my opponent plays it. We're just tools of the lexicon in these games. Win however the rules reply.

¹: Hey Steph--it happened again. 1 in 3 might have been cautious.
²: ::shrug::