(the misadventures of an expatriate corporate dropout)

Thursday, April 17, 2008

not very high, in her estimation.

I received good news and bad news this morning. The moving and shipping estimator arrived early for her appointment. Flawlessly groomed from head to toe and very gracious to boot. She entered my own little corner of hell with a permanently applied smile that she obviously had trained herself to maintain, no matter what the horrors encountered.

I accompanied her from room to room, apologizing every third step for the chaos. The detritus. The current doggieness of my abode. My home is littered with half filled boxes, piles of wrapping tucked into corners, stacks of half-sorted items. Because of the clutter, I haven't washed the floors or carpets in weeks. Only sweeping and vacuuming have occurred, and the floors are less than appetizing. Two dogs worth of unappetizing. sigh.

To top it off, we ascended the stairs and discovered a little poochy-present that awaited in the upstairs bedroom. You puppy owners know what I mean. Mortification personified.

The good news is that my original inventory list came in spot-on to the visual review. The move will not be very high, in her estimation.

The bad news is my housekeeping skills and resulting opinion of me, are also ... not very high in her estimation.

4 comments:

Stacey said...

Ha! Thanks for the laugh this morning, believe me, I needed it.

Diane said...

hehe @ poopie presents. I get little bunny tidbits all over my house. He IS getting a little better with using his box but scatters the sawdust in it all over the place!

Glad to hear your estimate was spot on!

francetales.com said...

Well in France we get to see poochie or poopie presents in the streets all over. I particularly like the owners who look around as if their dog was not shitting in the middle of the street. The shoulder shrug does nothing for me, pick it up.

Je ne regrette rien said...

Owen-proudly I'll confirm that I am a considerate dog owner. Maybe when my new village mates see me picking it up ... they'll catch on.

Paris is the worst for dog shit, if you ask me. just sayin'! (no better word for it!)