SWF (Sloppy White Female)

Yesterday I was sprawled across my sofa, watching the Law & Order: Criminal Intent marathon. (I still feel it's the weakest of the three shows, but when Chris Noth is on I give it a chance.) You know that scene where the detectives visit the victim's apartment and see what they can learn about her/him/it? I was lazily wondering what my condo would posthumously say about me when I realized I couldn't find the remote. I slipped my hand underneath the sofa cushion and … EWWWW! ICK! BLECH!

My fingertips touched grainy, unidentifiable stuff. I was completely creeped out. Not only was I certain that homicide detectives would decide that I was such a slob my murder didn't deserve solving, I also realized it was time to spring into action.

So I removed the cushions, dragged out the vacuum, and cleaned the damn thing. Mostly what I found was food crumbs. The occasional shed cat claw. Lots of fur. And a tiny rubber band I swear I never saw before in my life.

I didn't stop there. I decided to clean out my refrigerator. Fortunately I don't cook, so it didn't take long. My most interesting observation here is that after a very long time, the bottom of the cranberry juice jug began to look like jello.

Now I believe I'm done until 2009.