I know.

You don't even need to start.

My life is in disarray, my blog is in disarray. I need an intervention. Call A&E. Sign me up. My name is Susie. S-U-S-I-E.

Good Night Martha. I am spent. My list of ineffective excuses: painting, National Emy Holiday, awesome summer time cold, painting, start of the great 180 day count down, painting, pre-preparations for Festivus (I've decided that I've got a lot of problems with you people), and painting.

My life seems to be a series of fails lately. I'm failing with housework. I'm failing with basic human upkeep (my underwear may be clean. I can't be sure anymore). I'm failing.

Rather than actually fix my problems, be in any way be proactive, or remove myself from the couch before the bedsores get worse, I decided Photo Sesh. I'll title it "For the Record: My Mother Raised Me Better".
Fail: That's 6 pairs of shoes behind the couch. Four more are at the garage door. Three are near our bed. Why can't Dr. Scholl's make a "Put Away On Their Own" Gel. That'd make me Gellin. And he is a Dr. Hack Doctor. Dr. Nick kind of Dr, apparently.
Fail: That's a rowing Machine. Chuck wanted it. Chuck bought it. From Craigslist. He spent oh, um, 4 months obsessively watching Craigslist, found his dream "Rower" and here it lies. In my living room. It's been three weeks.
Fail: What you can't see is the full dishwasher I had just unloaded or the reloaded dishwasher that was running when this picture was taken. When you have a service for 12, no house guests, and your Mr. Cleaning a spoon for cereal: here's your sign. It says "issues".
Fail: Do you remember when it was 109 'round these parts? (side note: I cannot wait to someday recount the heatwave back in the recession of ought-9) Yeah. So that heat wave? THAT'S when these candle sticks melted sideways. YESTERDAY is when I finally put in new ones.
Fail: Just touch ups. I swear on Tim Gunn. Just touch ups. (ps: love that bad angle for Chuck. Hunchback of Notre Painting. Sanctuary. Sanctuary)
Fail: While you're on hold with A&E for Intervention, why don't you go ahead and press 2 for "Hoarders". Highlights of our fridge (which looks straight out of an "OCD: My Life in Clutter" Oprah special): No. You know what? No highlights. This is so embarrassing. This is a low-light. Chuck's Mom is going to reclaim custody. Can you lose Guardianship of your spouse? Next of Kin privileges? (We have since cleaned said fridge. Hazmat was called.)

I'm gonna go now.
You get the point.


  1. This is what I call awesome. And timely. You should see The Wedding Closet.

  2. L.O.L!!! I love this post. Can I just say that I'm relieved this is not just happening to me?

  3. I don't get what's wrong with your house - it looks pretty much like my apartment. You should have taken a picture of the kitty tub in the closet.

    Love you - miss you!

  4. Oh Susie, we're so alike. As soon as school starts our place falls apart too. We've barely been home and our place would compete with yours. I am sick too, which means it might not even get better this weekend.

  5. In the words of my daughter, "Awesome." Oh, said daughter would be you.


Tell me about it. Oh and thanks for validating my life.

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