Basement Husband

Alright, so with the whole “we’re getting a divorce” thing also comes this “we’re selling the house” thing.

And come 10AM tomorrow our realtor, to take pictures to list the place.

Can you guess what we’ve been frantically doing for the last week?

Oh right, we’re both horrible procrastinators and total slackers when it comes for cleaning. Let me rephrase: can you guess what we’ve been frantically doing for the last 24 hours?

CLEANING!

And not just the usual 6 inches of crushed cheerios off of the living room floor with sticky table tops cleaning, but rather the we don’t even live here kind.

And part of THAT involves, what is oh so cutely (and inaccurately) labeled, staging.

Which really just means pretending two lazy adults and a horde of wild children and few extra furballs don’t actually live in this house.

Because believe me, nobody’s house looks like those nice neat pictures when they have young children and/or internet and/or creatures that shed.

So we’ve doing pretty good on most of the house, except for the garage (whole different rant there) and the basement. Now, our basement is decent sized, and actually doesn’t have all that much crap shoved in it stuff being stored down there. Except that, for the last year and a half, every time I have asked that soon-to-be-ex husband of mine to bring something down to the basement he has set it in the same pile right at the bottom of the stairs.

Yep, I have had to rearrange his fucking pile o’ shit just to walk to the laundry area.

So I’ve sent him down several times to move shit into a neat stack on the far side, to make it look nice and expansive (or at least as minimally crappy as possible). And then I’ve also asked him to bring a few things down to the basement on a few different occasions while doing important tasks like making sure potential buyers can actually SEE our granite countertops.

And do you know where he keeps sitting all the things I’ve asked him to bring to the basement for the last week?

Right at the bottom of the stairs, on the front/top of the remaining pile that’s he’s supposed to have been diminishing.

God damnit jackass, doing shit EXACTLY like that is why trying to get the house picked up is such a fucking pain!!

Seriously!

It is a reasonably sized basement. Put the shit on the far wall, neatly. It’s not that fucking hard. K??

And now, please get off your lazy beer drinking espn watching ass from your few minute (aka hour and a half) break and go finish moving shit in the basement.

MWA!

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