I have to clean, and then I really mean clean... And what do I have to clean? My wardrobe of fucking course, I hate it. I curse on it, everytime. I do not like it in any way or the other. And I can't toss anything, it might be useful in some near or dear time - like when I expect it least, then it pops up like a flying sorccerer and surprise me. I love that, but I have to clean and I really mean that I do have to do that. Oh dear.... I don't want to.
Tomorrow will be funnier, I know so.