Bad House Sitter

I’m housesitting, hence the title. 

Super place, on a huge orchard. My dog gets to tag along. Hot tub, sauna, gym. Did I mention hot tub, who needs a gym? Sweet dogs, bad cat. Perfectly green, weed free grass, water feature, garden...of the vegetable and flower variety. SUPER sharp kitchen knives that empower me with instant cooking ability and know how, a miracle...since I don’t cook. A shower head that only reaches my collar bone in the guest bathroom (and no, I’m not freakishly tall. A modest 5’8” if I fully inhale and think tall). Oh, and that whole wireless keyboard to your gigantic flat screen TV that has now magically become your computer!?!? WHAT? I need to get out more. 

Anyway, the perfect kind of place for MVAR (motor vehicle accident recovery, of course). Did I mention the hot tub has a recliner? Ok, I’m back. They have a housekeeper, I think she comes about every two weeks. Now, in the past...I have cleaned up the house before the housekeeper arrives. You know, to be polite. Not look like a slob, or to be called out by housekeeping for being the dirty little pig I am. Well, pig might be a smidge harsh. But, you get me. Because this is simply what nice people do.

So here’s the thing: I’m feeling much better post Steve McQueen movie try outs the other day. I’m 100% capable of cleaning up my mess. I could get up, out of bed, right now...if I wanted to, and help out. But I don’t. I just don't feel like doing it. It’s late, I’m tired. The kitchen is ALL the way down the hall. My little dog has already been lulled to sleep with her nightly lullaby of my typing, I’d hate to disturb her doggy slumber. And, I think my leg might be asleep...and it would be unsafe to travel such a distance on a dead leg. I believe these are all REALLY good excuses, but, the single most important factor in my decision: I want to see if it’s fun! I bet it is. Real fun. I’ll keep you posted. 

Oh, AND I drank the last of their PBR tonight! These are great folks!!