Herewith, for your amusement, a list of things that demonstrate my idiocy:
- I believe in the illusion of a spotless home. Convince myself that it is entirely within the realm of possibility for me to maintain impeccably clean floors at all times while having two cats and a baby. Impossible. Freak out because floors are dusty, and there might be two stray cat hairs lying around. Manically vacuum, mop, AND swiffer.
- Refuse, however, to unpack my suitcase for three weeks after returning from vacation. Instead deposit clothing in several piles on the floor of closet. Have no issue with vacuuming around said piles of clothes. Ignore dust bunnies rapidly multiplying. COGNITIVE DISSONANCE, BITCHES!
- Decide, in a fit of cleanfreakery, that I should get rid of all clutter and crap clogging up our closets. Throw out old boxes. Computer boxes. Boxes that contained our systems' disks and many, many, many, many dollars worth of software for our brand new iMac.
- Freak out because, OMG! The new computer is sick! My baby! My poor, shinny, well designed, user-friendly hipster-cred-generating baby! He has been invaded by viruses! And Trojans! And Worms! Is infected! And diseased! And possessed! MUST REFORMAT AND REINSTALL EVERYTHING AT ONCE OR WE WILL ALL DIE OF THE PESTILENCE!
- See number three above. Realize that I am, indeed, a gigantic idiot.
- Insist on ironing underwear, washcloths, and baby pajamas. Seriously. Who does that?
- Refuse to get ready to leave until exactly two minutes before I must be out the door. Because, you guys, OMG I can’t leave early! Then I’ll actually arrive at my destination early, and I’ll have to wait there! And stand around! Alone! With people looking at me knowing that I am waiting. Oh, the embarrassment, the SHAME!
- Realize that, oh crap, I have to nurse the baby, change her diaper, pack the diaper bag, put on makeup, locate my keys, get a drink of water, check Facebook, find my sunglasses, no wait, not those sunglasses, the other ones, and get out the door. In two minutes. Otherwise I will be monumentally late.
- Blame the fact that I can never manage to get anywhere on time on all the mothereffing housework I have to do.
Annnnnnd as a bonus example of my idiocy, I present this little number:
- Be completely incapable of differentiating between the word minute and minuet. Seriously, I had to check with dictionary dot com about eight times for this entry. And, most probably, I still got it wrong. I can’t tell. EFFFFFFF.