I’ve gotten to the point where i’m just leaving a fork in my box of precious precious cheesecake so that i don’t have to rinse off a new one ever time i decide to have a piece. Leaving me here alone for more than a day or two is rather dangerous, because everything loses all semblance of order without Matt around to make me feel self-conscious about it. I practically have the door barricaded with discarding clothing, shoes, and shopping bags, not to mention the musical war-zone. And, i’m still denying that the bedroom even exists, let alone how much it needs to be organized. I mean, didn’t i just clean before i left for Florida? ugh…