People are being shown my apartment in less than an hour. I got the note informing me of this at oh, 1:30ish-AM. This afternoon, I've tried to clean up so that these people won't think I'm disgusting*.
Things cleaning my apartment is like:
1) Polishing a turd.
2) Putting lipstick on a pig.
3) Futile.
Ways in which I have "cleaned":
1) Used the delightful painting of 3 raccoons that Ben gave me to hide a pile of clutter hidden behind a chair.**
2) Stuffed all my clothing (normally strewn around my room in a delightful fashion) into my closet.
3) Placed two clean, neatly folded towels on top of the little shelf in my room that holds miscellanea such as tampons, spare razors, mail, hair products, bras, a broken curling iron, and a spoon - effectively hiding this miscellanea and making it appear as though I store my towels in a neatly fashion albeit in the wrong room.
4) Artfully arranged my shoes to distract from the box o' mystery in the corner of my living room.
5) Left a box of condoms on my bedside table to shock and intrigue, and hopefully distract from the other clutter there on.
6) Left the notice to the rentalsman in which my crazy superintendent accused me of all sorts and tried (unsuccessfully!) to get me evicted, on the counter for reading material.
7) Left Ben's hoodie (obviously a man's) on my bed, just to fuck with said superintendent, since she is convinced that he lives here.
*I'm kind of disgusting.
** What? You don't display art leaned up against a chair?
I love this. (When people are coming over at a messy time in my life, I throw all miscellanea and laundry - both dirty and clean - into my bathtub and draw the curtain. Problem solved. Except sometimes these people get drunk. And wander into the bathroom for exploration purposes. And pull back the curtain. And see everything I own in sitting in heaps in my bathtub. Problem not so solved. Indeed, problem slightly larger.)
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