I can't stop cleaning. And if someone doesn't hide my credit card, I'm going to buy Target out of every contemporary/Modern/Thomas O'Brien/Isaac Mizrahi/Design for All (including frumpy housewives) piece of crap they sell.
Not only have I bleached, dusted or vacuumed every surface in this place, I've hauled out the Christmas decorations and gone hog wild.
Unfortunately, every piece of country casual Christmas crap I pull out of the box reminds me of how far from my personality my decor has veered. Since I rarely buy stuff for my home myself, my house is full of gifts and hand-me-downs. And frankly, it looks like my mother lives here.
As for the outside of our house, if it were up to me every window and the roof line would be lined with white lights. The trees would be full of tiny, white lights and I might even go as far as to let them twinkle. There would be a wreath in every window and door.
Clearly, it's not up to me.
And look! Our snowman has erectile disfunction. We can't get him to keep his candy cane up no matter what we do. Sounds like my last boyfriend.
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