Before I left for Canada, there was a messy, grumpy elfen man on my sofa. He didn't really shave very often and left trails of dust and piles of garbage in his wake when on the move. When I came back, my kitchen smelled like 409 and shone in the setting sunlight through the open blinds. Someone cleaned up all the messes and emptied the dishwasher and put all the vegetables in the fridge.
Where is Corey and who brought me this new person? Will all this eagerness to make things germ-free disappear by this weekend when he stops missing me as much? Or are these pre-emptive strikes against the nagging beast I become when I'm stressed out? Perhaps chillaxing with awesome ladies from other lands has put things into perspective. The kitchen is not actually cleaner, the mess just bothers me less. Possible?
Who has gone away--messy Corey or nasty Katy?
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