Things are bad and It's Deb and Chellie's fault

My house is in chaos. I have mostly taken down the Christmas decorations (though there is one big box in the living room that is too heavy for me to carry...hint hint Steve) and a few miscellaneous items that I forgot about when I did the major taking down. My laundry still needs to be folded. My bathroom still needs to be cleaned. My bed is unmade.

Basically my chores aren't done.

Hey, don't blame me, blame Deb and Chellie. You see I do my chores while talking on the phone. Housework is boring and lonely so I depend on my girls to get me through. Frankly they haven't been holding up their end of the deal lately, citing things like work, studying, work, hair appointments, and work as excuses to not distract me from the drudgery, the work, the sheer annoyingness of making the dirty clean over and over again.

Usually when Deb or Chellie are not available I listen to my iPod or a book on CD. However, it is Deb's fault that I can't listen to a book on CD because she got me into this Jen Lancaster fixation and my local library didn't have any Jen on CD and I can't contaminate Jen's musings with another author, now can I? It's Chellie's fault I can't listen to my iPod because after years of listening to Chellie's devotion to the Bare Naked Ladies (and other adult bands) I actually listened to them and now I'm finding my musical tastes are perhaps moving beyond Wham!, Madonna, and the soundtrack to the Lion King so my iPod songs don't really feel like a fit right now. (Though I am still preeeetty happy with Abba selection).

If nothing else is available I will sometimes (in desperation) entertain myself by creating blog posts in my head while doing the mindless task of cleaning. I can't do this anymore because (Deb's fault) Deb suggested I actually write down some of these ideas instead of letting my brilliant posts drift away with the minutia in my mind and I can't possibly write down a blog idea while scrubbing a toilet, right?

Finally when I am absolutely desperate for something to think of while cleaning I mentally re-decorate the room I'm cleaning. This is a last resort because all-too-frequently those kinds of thoughts lead to dissatisfaction with the room, a compelling urge to put my ideas into reality, and an expensive (financially) and conflicted (maritally) result all because I can't make a bed without a buddy. Even this not-perfect solution isn't available to me because (Chellie's fault) Chellie agreed with me when I said I would call American Express and get my statement closing date changed which led American Express to extend this billing cycle by 13 days which threw the budget into meltdown and thus any redecorating on my part would result in us having to eat the cat's food because we couldn't afford groceries.

See? My friends have some 'splainin to do, yes?