So, today Smith is out on a job and I am at home alone. I woke up late, took my lil buddy dog for a leisurely stroll, made some art, and spent some time with my kitten looking at pictures of cats online before ultimately heading to the shower, to blow the cumulative stank offa me.
After singing my best Journey medley for fifteen to twenty minutes, I exited my shower oasis and searched for my towel. It wasn’t on the door – because I took it off and walked around the house with it over my shoulder for ten minutes of pre-shower resistance. No big deal, I’ll just go out and get it – right?
Wrong. Smith forgot to tell me that the pest inspection dude was coming today. Therefore, I bust out in all my naked glory only to find a dude standing in our window with an oversized toilet brush. In my uncoordinated panic I twisted my ankle, yelled out ACK! as if I were the real-life Kathy cartoon, and dove into the bedroom like I just heard someone yell they cut the wrong wire on a bomb they were diffusing.
Worst yet, EVERY PIECE OF CLOTHING I OWN IS CURRENTLY IN THE WASH ROOM – WHICH IS OUTSIDE THROUGH THE GARAGE! So currently, I’m writing this post while holed up in Smith’s closet (it’s the only place with no windows) sitting in a giant t-shirt that I think has a picture of Michael Jordan on it.
The way I was awkwardly moving and thus unflattering angle making, I’d bet that the pest dude just thought he saw a suburban orangutan. I’m praying his eyes could not adjust to fully understand what he was seeing due to the bright sun outside. Either way, this dude is dead to me now. There will be no waving. There will be no small talk. I KNOW WHAT YOU SAW, BUDDY! You couldn’t even throw me a courtesy knock or doorbell? Boo. I quit us.