Around 3pm on Saturday afternoon, Master was naked on the lounge watching war shit and I was writing a blog wearing my poodle pup washing clothes, my green fluffy slippers and had matted bed-hair when the door bell rang.
Thinking it was yet another visit from Jehovah’s witnesses/Christian do-gooders/kids forced to sell raffle tickets by their parents/the next door neighbour saying he had chased a snake into our garden again, I answered the door as I was, ready to give a short, sweet response so I could back to doing what I was doing.
When I opened the door I was greeted by a domly friend who lives nearby. He had brought around a car-full of computer stuff that he was taking to a swapmeet tomorrow. He wanted to give us first dibs if there was anything we wanted and the moment he said that, I could hear Master salivating:
“Invite him in, bitch!” came the yell from the Masterly one as I went in search of some pants and a shirt for him to put on.
“Had a rough night, did you??” the domly one asked me, taking in the ‘normal’ me who wears glasses and green fluffy slippers. He’d only ever seen me in various slut outfits with my contacts in and a completely new face thanks to the folk at Revlon.
“No…umm…this is how I normally look.”
So while Master went out with him to trawl through the goodies in the car, I did what I like to call THE GREAT FIVE-MINUTE CLEAN-UP JOB of 2009 as I knew they’d be coming in for coffee afterwards.
Let me just say that if I’m not expecting anyone over, the house is normally in various states of disarray. This particular day there was crap everywhere and dirty dishes covering every available surface of the kitchen. I hadn’t swept the floor after tracking in a tonne of dirt and sand from outside over the past week and there was a lovely bloody pool outside with flies swarming over it where the poodle pup had just polished off a chicken carcass.
In short, I was uberly embarrassed.
So I went into overdrive while they were outside, sweeping, wiping, throwing all the crap into my bedroom and closing the door (the perfect crime), stacking things in the dishwasher and overall, trying to make it slightly look like something other than animals lived there. There wasn’t anything I could do about myself in five minutes, so I just thought, ‘meh’ and charged around with the domestic goddess spirit radiating from me.
I’ve always had a bit of a Martha Stewart fantasy where people would casually drop around for afternoon tea and the house would be spotless and there’d be a selection of cookies, cakes and cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off ready and waiting. I’d like to be that organized and domestically goddessly, but I ain’t – the dishes get done when we start to run out of clean ones and I go out to the clothes line to take off the clothes that I’m about to wear and leave everything else out there.
Therefore, I like people to call before they come, I like them to e-mail before they call, and I like them to think long and hard and give me at least two weeks notice before they email. That way I have time to clean light-bulbs and make perfect little crust-less sandwiches. It’s always lovely to have people come around for a quick chat or whatever, but I swear, I nearly gave myself a heat-attack doing The Great Clean-up Job of 2009.
I also had some great unexpectations at the play party we went to on Saturday, but I think that will be another story.