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Monday Listicles - Ten things in my house that should not be


Happy Monday!  I’m linking up with the lovely Stasha over at The Good Life for Monday Listicles.  This week’s list is Ten Things in my house. I changed it up a bit, because I'm cool like that, to Ten things in my house that should not be. Why? I'm hoping that by listing these things, I will be provoked into action and finally get rid of some of them, if not all. Couldn't hurt to try, right? So I'm airing my dirty laundry, so to speak, and giving you a sobering look inside my house. Don't judge. It could be a whole lot worse. 


 Ten things in my house that should not be


  • An enormous exercise bike that weighs a ton and takes up half the living room area. I bought it way back when I first moved to Vegas…from a coworker….for fifty bucks.  I would pay someone twice that to just make it disappear.  It’s not that I disdain exercise.  I just seriously hate that contraption.  I have stubbed my toe on that thing more times than I would care to recall.  And it is ugly.  Not conducive to getting healthy at all.  It actually makes me want to drink.  More.  To soothe the pain from my stubbed toes, you understand. 
  • The Laz-Z-Boy loveseat in my living room that folds out to the most uncomfortable portable bed ever made.  Ever.  I mean ever.  How do I know how uncomfortable it is?  Well, because every time someone comes to visit, they get my room. And I get the couch. There is only ONE comfortable position possible…sleeping on the floor.  Why did I purchase such a lousy loveseat?  Oh they saw me coming alright. I actually believed the bitch saleslady who gushed on and on that the portable bed was one of the most comfortable ever made.  Please. Don’t show me any bridges. I’m sure my Momma didn’t intend for my middle name to be gullible
  • The two vases of dead flowers sitting on my dining room table. I received roses from my partner and a lovely assorted bouquet from my son and his family…for my birthday. That was September 6th. This is September 24th.  The flowers are dead.  They have been dead for awhile now. The water in the vases is yucky looking.  Some of the dead rose petals are strewn across the table.  I would like to say they are a symbol of my love for my family and I just can’t let go or bear to throw them out.  The truth is, I barely notice them now that they are dead.  Now and then, I look over at the two vases and think, “I need to throw those out and wash those vases.”  That’s as far as I ever get.  I really can’t explain it. I must be going through a thing.  It’s bigger than me. I’m not sure how it all will end but I’ll keep ya’ll updated. 
  • Fifteen or twenty assorted phone books.  I am not sure how we came to have so many phone books when it seems we are always throwing them out. I think they may be multiplying like bunnies. Don’t ask me how that relates, but for lack of better analogy, there it is. I am not exaggerating because I would never ever do that  when I report that everywhere you look in my house, you will see a phone book.  It’s kinda like they are strategically positioning themselves in every nook and cranny .  Maybe they are really aliens taking on inanimate life forms, and they are doing surveillance on my pathetic exciting life and then reporting back to their leaders my every word and every move.  You never know.  I should stop picking my nose and talking to my pretend gerbil.   
  • Twenty-plus pairs of shoes in my closet I will never wear again.  To some women, twenty-plus pairs of shoes are not a lot.  In my case, however, the shoes are not a collection of cute stilettos and slippers, but rather a big pile of forgotten, worn, dirty, or out-of-fashion sandals and sneakers. I also have a pair of very ugly work shoes I bought that I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing.  Not only are they clunky and ugly, they are a full two sizes too big for me.  I ordered them online. Must have been a heavy-on-the-wine night.  I gotta stop drunk shoe shopping!
  • Three mystery containers in the back of my refrigerator.  I am afraid to open them. I don’t know how long they’ve been in there, but I am quite sure if it hadn’t been cold,  they would have grown legs and walked out by now.  
  • Phone cords, cables, wires, mystery adapters/plugs/cords, random screws, bits and pieces of plastic parts of something, and random unidentifiable tools.  Most people have a junk drawer in their house to catch stray pens and pencils, buttons, paper clips, etc.  I have three drawers and a plastic box full of various useless parts and pieces.  It took seven years to accumulate said items.  I’m not a hoarder, I swear. I am just too lazy to take stuff to the dumpster.
  • Plaid apparel of any kind. I hate plaid. Every time I see plaid, I throw up a little in my mouth. I don’t know what irks me, but maybe it has something to do with my need for simplicity. Plaid is not simple. It is complex and it makes me freaking nuts. I have done extensive recon on my apartment to rid my life of all things plaid.  However, I suspect there are probably a few items lurking in the darkest recesses of my wacko brain  walk-in closet.  I will find them. And when I do. I will cut them. Count on it.
  • Chocolate, ice cream, cookies, cake, soda, and anything else that actually takes yummy.  I am on a diet and these items are not allowed. If I find any of these items in my house, I will immediately dispose of them.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
  • Cheap, generic ground coffee from Wal-Mart, leftover from when I was unemployed.  I’m only holding on to the cheap stuff until I’m sure they aren’t going to fire me from my new job.  Once I’m past my probationary period, that nasty stuff is history.  A girl’s got standards, ya know.


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