Conditions: Less Than Perfect

Let’s talk for a second about my living situation. Yes, I guess I could say “our” living situation, but RP seems to pay it little mind. In fact, I think the man would be thrilled if we went “furniture” shopping at REI and spent our lives sleeping in a tent (yes I know that Lehi did it but that offers me little comfort).

Speaking of camping, that’s what we’ve been doing for the better end of a month. And before we have our furniture delivered and I spend a good 36 hours and five bottles of Clorox Cleanup on this joint, I feel compelled to document the living conditions that I’ve become accustomed to over the past three weeks.

I think I saw a similar story last week on 60 Minutes.

Let me introduce you to the living room.

Sure, it looks like a mess. But rest assured, each item has its place. For instance, the hammock chair on in a heap in the corner is strategically placed there so it can keep watch out the glass door for better weather. The pile of blankets, sheets and towels atop an uncovered queen mattress is there to remind me that I have yet to do laundry this week.

The MacBook? Why, silly reader, that designates that corner of the mattress as my office. This should be duly noted, due to the fact that other sections of the mattress are used to eat, sleep, pray, talk, read, watch TV and on one special occasion, make popcorn (let's not talk about it).

It's unfortunate, in fact, that I don't have a video of yesterday morning's (typical) scenario: RP wakes up, cuddles over to me, then pauses and mutters: "What is that? Oh, nevermind. It's just a twig of your Fiber One."

Shall we move on to the bedroom? Let's.

I know what you're thinking: "Oh my gosh; they live by the beach and have a home gym?" Yes, that's what I like to call the far eastern corner of the room where you'll see a set of fitness risers and not two, but three sets of dumbbells. And yeah, that is an HP inkjet printer atop my empty laundry hamper. What can I say, the Mr. and I have a taste for the finer things in life. Like, say, the sports bras from Ross Dress for Less still nestled in their bag perched on a suitcase full of the lingerie I have yet to unpack from the honeymoon (lucky husband, huh?).

I know that someday, when my furniture has arrived and I've actually cleaned and organized these walls into some sort of domestic environment, I'll laugh and say, "remember when our house looked like that?

I know that. But I don't feel it.

Stay tuned.