Ian and I are in the interesting, and I think fun, position of getting a roommate this weekend. This, of course, meant both a trip to Target and a bout of throwing out old or useless items I’ve contemplated trashing since 2003.
For example, after about an hour of making and then not cleaning up a mess in my bathroom, I cleared off 5/6 of a shelf for the roomie in the medicine cabinet. In case that should seem a bit stingy, let it be known that I threw out at least one bottle of mousse for this endeavor; that’s dedication.
Just because the last time I used said mousse was 2005 doesn’t mean anything; hair products have a shelf life of 27 years. Just ask anyone who’s ever bought Avon; I guarantee there’s at least one dusty bottle of hair crème from 1986 hidden in the very back of the bottom drawer in the bathroom.
After making other very tough decisions, like whether I should relegate the “Bump-Its” I bought during my phase of trying and failing to replicate my Facebook friend Nicole’s impressive hair bump to the linen closet, I headed out to Target to buy the harsh, environmentally awful cleaning chemicals because, while I love both my lungs and the environment, let’s face it; my “cleaned by products green” house is not going to stand up to anything closer than a cursory inspection by drunk houseguests.
There I was, teetering around Target in my high heels and grey pencil dress (it was a work day), flitting around the cleaning aisles and dragging my humongous red cart behind me, having a serious internal debate over whether I should buy KaBOOM in support of my man Billy Mays, may he rest in peace, or just fold and buy the straight biochemical toxins in the yellow tub.
In the end I went for KaBOOM because I had a memory flash of Billy holding up that purple bottle, yelling, “SEE, NO ELBOW GREASE! THE STAINS JUST FALL OFF!” I’m a sucker for the sentimental.
Before we went to bed, I KaBOOMED the tub and was a little frightened when the stains did actually fall off in the form of brown brackish water washing off the sides of the tub. I watched this while gasping through burning lungs and squinting through teared-up eyes. Mother Nature, work out a KaBOOM of your own, please; I can’t take this level of chemicals more than once or twice a year.
As frightening as the stains falling off was the weird white, chalky film that stayed behind on a good portion of the tub. I have some guesses as to what it is: the KaBOOM bleached my mold and now it’s just visible, or maybe it’s the remnant of the “Now with BLEACH!” that still smells bleach-y twelve hours later, or perhaps the KaBOOM is “SO AMAZINGLY THOROUGH” that Billy’s magic juice melted the sides off my tub. If our roomie mysteriously disappears halfway through his first shower here, I’ll do some investigation into which option it was.
Besides contributing to the economy via Target trips, I guarantee there will be more beer in the fridge than usual, and those six beautiful, cold bottles of bubbly delight make up the other six ways roommates help the economy. I will break down the reasons below.
Beer = happier Carlene, happier Carlene = more productive Carlene, more productive Carlene = less in debt Carlene. Finally (most importantly), less in debt Carlene buys a LOT of shoes on the internet. This is a good cycle; I’m already liking it.
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One Response to “The top 7 reasons my getting a roommate helps bolster the economy”
Hah, I love this. Let me know how the Kaboom works out! I’m all about Billy Mays