Kickin' off the shoes!

I forgot how nice it is to walk around your flat without shoes.  I haven't dared risk my soles in this place.  Every corner screams of a disease!  Clean and organised aren't words you would use in combination with my name but I've hit my breaking point.  Somewhere in between rewashing every dish and debating showering at the gym over my own place, I put the plan in action.  I don't want to start a battle 5 days into my tenacy so I hoped leading by example would be enough.

After all my bitching, I maned up.  I was half way through a good tub scrubing when Sal came home, shocked by my cleaning, he thanked me and walked away.  By the time I was going to town on the sink, he returned to apologize and promise to keep up the clean flat.  Unimpressed, I carried on.  Beni joined the effort by kitchen time.  You know you have a good boyfriend when he helps clean just to end the bitchfest!  So clean we did, for hours scrubbing, mopping, and sticking our hands in crude.  It seems to have made the impression I wanted...let's see how long it stays.  I really don't want to flathunt again!