Our landlord is coming by today to do a check on the property. Apparently he does this every two months, presumably to see if we are abiding by his rules and not harbouring illegal immigrants, growing drugs or hiding animals. We are not even allowed fish for some reason… Well, you know how fish love to party.
So I have spent all morning mopping and cleaning, which is nice. Everything is now so tidy I dare not move. These sort of visits always make me somewhat nervous, even though Aleksy Sadlowski left an hour ago with the drugs and fish tucked under his arm.
It’s just I wonder exactly how clean they want me to be – do I dust the skirting board, for instance? Will they order us out because I am drying trainers on a mat in the spare room? Should I clean behind the bed? And I am not a filthy urchin, to any that might be thinking in horror ‘she doesn’t dust her skirting boards!’ It’s just, well - skirting boards are so small aren’t they, and there is precious little dust down there, and does anyone actually get that close? Oh dear, I bet these inspectors do.
And I hate the whole – ‘yes, this is where I sleep. Great, take a good look at my bed. Oh, did you want to see my toilet? Here you go – look, I go pee there. Did you get a good look at the shower by the way – yes, I use Head and Shoulders shampoo!’ It’s just all a bit…eurgh. But I do want to complain about the hob – one of the rings doesn’t work. So if they start bending down to check out the skirting board, I will distract them with a hob story.
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