We all knew I have problems, yes?

So. Our landlords want to show their soon-to-be-vacated unit (I hate moving. Above and beyond it, leaving this place is going to suck, because the landlord's been awesome and that's really not something you can count on), and since the landlord in Seattle basically accused me of keeping a dirty enough house to attract wildlife, I tend to get . . . motivated to tidy the place before landlords come by anyway.

And now there will be people opening cabinets and looking for signs of water damage and Weird Stains, because you want to know what you're getting into with a rental, yes?

Cue neurotic cleaning of the things. All the things.

(I'm sure you think I'm kidding. Ask Zach or K, they got drafted for some of the tidying. >.> I had to ask Zach to stop defurring the vacuum cleaner* so we could finish vacuuming before the deadline.)

We had the first showing last night, and went out to dinner to get out of their way. Today Veggie's headed to a coffeeshop and Zach and K and I are going to Two Guns for the duration of the open house.

Om.

*: The Lord of Fluff sheds. So do I. Mine are easier to see in the rollers of the vacuum; his are easier to see on . . everywhere else. Behold the joys of a dark cat and not-immensely-dark everything else.