Although there are many here that wear their "squalor" badge with pride, I'm sure there are also people like me who used to be happy with squalor in their teens, but then had some sort of dormant gene AWAKEN in their twenties. I call it the "house proud gene" and I inherited it from my mother. Our house back home is always like a show home. I don't know how she does it.

Generally I am happy with the flat if it is clean to an acceptable degree (you walk in and don't think "urgh" is my bar - it's not high), and tidy enough so that you aren't constantly tripping over things.

However, the "house proud gene" only truly manifests when....you have guests over. For anything. One person? They can suck it up. A whole group of people?

So we have guests later. Even though the flat is pretty clean and tidy I am within the midst of a cleaning compulsion. First up is the mould in the bathroom. Granted this is fairly rank (we have NO air circulation in the bathroom) and I probably should have done it way sooner, but frankly, it takes a long time, I have to use "proper" chemicals (not just white vinegar) and it's pretty difficult (perching on the bath edge. Climbing on chairs, etc). I had stopped noticing it, until even Mr Kay Kay (who doesn't see mess or dirt generally) started commenting about we would have to clean it before we have guests in a few weeks. That translates roughly as ".....can you clean it...?". I was going to propose that we did it together this weekend, but now we have an unexpected thing happening tonight. I worked based on praise and there had better be some SERRRIIIOOOUUUUSSS songs at my awesomeness later.

Anyway, all these things that I only vaguely notice normally (light switches need cleaning. oil splash on the cupboard) suddenly morph into these blatantly obvious signs of my slovenliness, and what's worse is that you notice things that you never even noticed before. Skirting boards are dirty.

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The main problem is, I know for a fact that none of our friends give TWO FUCKS about the sodding skirting boards. They won't notice is the windows are dirty.

BUT I WILL KNOW.

As I type this, I realise quite how sad I really am.

But I'm still going to clean those fucking skirting boards.