For some reason, many people think that I'm perfect - or close to perfect - but the truth is, the only thing I'm perfect at is projecting the image of perfection, and really, that's a big fat lie too. Just ask ChuckyLuv. He knows the truth - as does any single person who has ever visited my home.
The place is a freakin' wreck almost all the time. Now, I'll admit that it isn't going to be featured on "Hoarders" or "Buried Alive" anytime soon, but I'll the fact is that the kitchen is only ever clean for the orgasmic five minutes just after the maids finish cleaning my house every other Friday. And the remainder of the house is a cluttered mess full of piles of laundry, toys throughout, unfinished Lego projects, numerous pieces of school artwork, stacks of mail, the most recent snack, and at least one empty bottle of wine or champagne and two empty glasses.
I am fully aware of the state of my household organization (or lack thereof), but for some reason I was highly offended, embarrased, and generally depressed when I received a detailed note from the exterminator that visited our home today (who I forgot was coming) about the overall condition of my home. Robert (aka "The-Man-Who-Kills-Bugs-for-A-Living" - yes, I'm being catty) scrawled the following words onto my receipt:
Attic O.K. Yard Cluttered w/ toys. home cluttered throughout especially
Garage. Please try to have toys picked up before ea. svc.
And you can find more images of these on the Hoarder's website or the Buried Alive website.
Robert, we're done. Don't come back.