My Vacuum Sucks
As in, it stopped sucking. I'm having a party tomorrow, so of course my dog chose today to roll around in the mud, then force his way into the house as someone opened the door. Then he ran like a maniac through every (carpeted) room in the house.
And now the vacuum cleaner isn't working. So people will come over and see my muddy carpet and they will JUDGE me because it is clear that I am a bad, bad, awful, rotten, no-good woman who smears mud all over her carpets and then just leaves it there! "Shame!" they will say, laughing and pointing. "Hang your head in shaaaaaaaaame!"
Who keeps calling my cell? Is it you? Stop it, I say, stop it already. It's 1:30 in the morning. I'm not answering. If you're stuck on the side of the freeway and need me to come pick you up, then, oh, I dunno, LEAVE A MESSAGE.
Otherwise I have no choice but to assume that you are the SERIAL KILLER lurking outside my house just waiting for me to answer so he can ask me if I like scary movies or if I've checked the children or do I know that he knows what I did last summer? And he DOES know, yes he does, because I did it with him. Wait, no, that's a different movie.
