Nothing says single woman like do-it-all-by-yourself home improvement jobs. The carpet in my extra bedroom had been screaming ‘tear me up’ for months but I was somehow able to ignore its plea. Last weekend I could not longer stand the stains, smell and lingering thought that there’s just a load of bacteria breeding in there.
So up it came. In less than two hours my shiny hardwood floors were emancipated from at least 10 years of progressive grossness. It is alarming that I’ve become adept at tool use. (Notice the utter lack of guilt on the face of the likely culprit regarding the aforementioned smell in the third photo.)
Come here Montie.
Good boy. Look at me…
Now sit and look distinguished.
Good tuxedo cat.
So where does one woman store stained carpet and smelly carpet pad late at night? The front porch of course where neighbors and passers-by can marvel at my lack of taste. Makes for quite the photo opp. Sure glad my existence isn’t governed by the taste police from a HOA.
Two years ago I donated my ‘92 BMW to Goodwill.
Next weekend I’ll retrieve it and park it on the lawn. For years.
.