Friday, July 29, 2011

Magical household.

My washing machine did heal itself. Apparently, it just needed a little break from its job, much like the rest of us do. Shortly after I posted yesterday, and after I had tentatively switched a few breakers on and off like I knew what I was doing, which I patently did not, the washing machine drained itself and went into the rinse-and-spin cycles. Like the champ that it is.

Now, if my household would just
  • vacuum its own rugs,
  • clean out its own refrigerator,
  • hang up its own clothes,
  • sort its own excess,
  • clear the kitchen table of its mail and books and whatnot, and
  • do the thinking for me about my poetic project, so that I can
  • revise my manuscript into the winner I know it can be,
then I would
  • solve the debt ceiling crisis.
I don't think that's too much to ask.


  1. If you will solve the debt crisis, I'll come vacuum, clean out, hang up, sort, clear, and think for you.

    Okay. Maybe not the poetic thinking part. But maybe another reader can help with that?

    I'm so done with the debt crisis.

  2. I knew it! And, mail. It will be the clutter-death us all.

  3. Let me know when you move into your magical house. I'll buy the magical house next door.



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