I'm not Hindu, but holy cow! My brain suddenly told me the inspection agents are coming tomorrow, and I can still smell eau de Rhubarb-and-Cherry everywhere. I personally have grown fond of Mrs. Tomson, but I'm not sure they will like her as much. She's spread herself out around here, seems she's keen to stay. Why, oh why didn't I clean sooner? Didn't I write it on my calendar? Yes, I did write it on my calendar. I write everything on my calendar. Why haven't I got a notification? Wait, when was the last time I got a notification? Hm, when was the last time I used my calendar? Wait, where is my calendar. Oh, on my phone.
I forgot to remember. Or I remembered to forget, not sure which. Do inspection agents ever say something good, like 'that is a lovely wainscot you have there. You have polished it to perfection.' No, it's always something you miss. They have disquali-rays built into their eyeballs. They know the Pantone color the door-hinges are meant to be. They have cobweb-vision. Actually, I have cobweb-vision. I hate spiders so much I've made sure there are no webs of any sort remotely near this house. Apart from web blogs. Or weblogs. Or- Probably they'll be some Livi who escaped when I closed the time paradox. Then what will I do? I better keep near a window at all times, and pre-knot the sheets. What if they're referees? That would be worse. They might even like sport. Either way, they're definitely agents of doom.
It's amazing, isn't it, how you can get so much blogging done when there's something hugely important you're meant to do. Hm, I should write under pressure more often. I mean, I handle all normal day-to-day pressures without freaking out, things like shopping and making food, or making friends. I'm not anxious like ever, never ever ever. Ever ever never ever.
Oh fine I'll get the wet wipes out.
The day after tomorrow I'll definitely buy a phone.