Rug doctor is, "Screaming mad at dirt," but I want to know if we can't just get along. We've been working for four days to get to the point that when our guests arrive in a few hours, we can say, "Oh, sorry, we didn't have a chance to pick up around here." The truth is, four days ago, it looked like the crew from Hoarders just packed up and left. Ha, the truth is like an onion, it reveals itself in layers: four days ago, it looked like no one had ever packed up here, anything, ever.
I cleaned the carpet on our stairs, and it looks horrible; blotchy patches of clean and dirty carpet. I suppose I'm thinking about this right now because our fortieth reunion looms tomorrow. If I'd just left it alone, I could have been an iconoclast. Oh, he's a wild man, he doesn't even care how his stairs look. Freedom, man, he doesn't even care what the Man thinks. The way it turned out, I care how it looks, I'm just a nebbish that can't even pick up after himself.