The Office Park
Sometimes Philip and I say we work at The Office Park at Davis. It sounds relevant. Really, it’s our home; he’s on the second floor, I am on the third. I’m not one of those who get distracted by laundry and other homemaking.
Some might look at this and feel their anxiety rising. I see the clothes on the bed (clean) far outnumber those on the floor (dirty), feel rather morally superior while hoping that someone will come along and do some folding. Off I go for my evening out, with hopes that I will be able to find the bed upon return. It can’t all be perfect.
How did the story end? On the floor. The five second rule will be extended.