i may not be bald or built like a body builder (whew!), but i do have a crazy-clean apartment. after church yesterday i went home and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned—and took a break to call my brother and his family—then cleaned and cleaned. david says i’m weird because i enjoy cleaning. (at least, that’s what he said last week when i offered to help him clean his apartment. he said, “you don’t have to help me. you should do something fun.” i grinned at him, and he said, “oh, yeah. that is fun for you.”)
he came over when i had finished cleaning yesterday. when i told him that i had taken everything off the kitchen counters to clean, he looked at them and asked, “do you have lines on the counters so you know where to put everything back?” i admit i like things in their place and my apartment rarely reaches a state outsiders would call “messy,” but i hope and pray i’m not as bad as monica geller. i can’t be. i mean, i don’t even have guest towels!