Cinderella

I turned into Cinderella again. If my rich old man never comes, I think I'll go get myself married to a farmer "out dere in da countray", get an apron tied 'round me middl' an' start scrubbin' me kitch'n floor with a piece of ol' rag. But until I get married to that farmer "out dere in da countray", I'll stick to my Disinfecting Wipes.


I must have scrubbed every known surface in my room today, and then some out in the living room. After that, I succumbed to a back ache, took a 10 minute nap, and pressed the snooze button 4 times. Oops.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. *rewind*

Last night, 1 girl reached her apartment with 2 huge suitcases, 3 boxes, and 4 bags. In 5 minutes she collapsed on her bed and died.

Not really, I just wanted to use the number "5".

AHHEM! Last night, 1 girl reached her apartment with 2 huge suitcases, 3 boxes, and 4 bags. Then she took a peek at her room, and saw this:

Then she brought everything into her room and this happened:

No joke. I can't tell you how many times she has fallen over her worldly possesions while trying to sort everything out. Then she went to sleep.

The next day she turned into a Cinderella and scrubbed every known surface in her room. Then she spent the rest of the day trying to sort out what went where.

Eventually, she did...and took pictures. She told me to tell you to imagine yourself turning around 360* clockwise. Go figure.





And that's that!