Mopped

Mopped

I needed to mop. I say that like I do it often, which would be a lie. I like living in a sty don't have time to clean often, and that's the truth. I finally, after 4 years of really shady mopping, got tired of having hairballs, furballs, and dustballs stick to my feet (more on my feet later). I broke down and paid mucho bucks for one of those new mop things.

Voila!

Easy to assemble (did it myself -- so proud!), light-weight, and comes with its own bottle of cleaning solution. You can spray it by squeezing this little switch at the handle, and it sprays at the bottom. How ultra-cool. We are living in the golden age, my friends. I was so fired up about the mop, that I mopped all the non-carpeted surfaces in the apartment. The removable cloth that attaches at the bottom turned nearly black, so I removed it (que facil!) and tossed in the trash (dice no deposite almohadillas en el inodoro!).

The whole starter kit costs about $15. Which seemed awfully expensive while I was standing in the aisle at Ralph's -- I was originally looking at the one manufactured by "Swiffer" because I like the name "Swiffer WetJet™" more so than "Clorox ReadyMop™." But for $7, I caved and bought the cheaper Clorox one, which even at $15, seemed kind of pricey. I think the whole store upped the prices after they remodeled last spring. Anyhoot, after giving it a whirl, I find it $15 well spent. I got a good workout out of it as well.

It's a good thing I got a mop, because I'm always barefoot. I step on a lot of nasty crap a few things, including the aforementioned dust, hair, fur, etc.. I don't like wearing socks. Those of you who know me outside my blog know, it's rare when I wear socks, and it's rare when I'm not wearing flippity-flops. I looooooove my feet, and feel horrified by the notion that I should hide them by wrapping them in cloth! Born free, roam free. Yes, my toes should be able to roam wherever they please, and wiggle with all their might. I've got really hot feet. I'm not a particularly hot woman, as it were, but my feet are really hot. It's not like I have a foot-fetish -- I don't. But my feet are lovely, and they really look like they don't belong on my body. They're pretty small. Have you seen sandal advertisements with foot models? Well, some of those model's feet are heinous! They have veins popping out, and overgrown toes that looks more like talons. Well, my feet aren't like that -- they're fair, smooth, and my toes are adorable. Now that I've absolutely horrified you with my unhealthy obsession for my own feet, let me move on.

I was wearing some hot shoes on my hot feet (see left). I have been an absolute fan of wearing heels! I never thought I'd be able to walk in stilettos, or any high heels for that matter, but apparently, I'm a natural. So I was wearing heels that are about 4 inches high (I think my feet are just about 8 inches long), which makes my legs look longer, which makes me look taller, which in hand, makes me look thinner, which ultimately makes me feel very good. But then, by the time I was at Ralph's, anally debating whether to pay the extra $7 for the Swiffer or just go with the Clorox, my tootsies were starting to feel a wee bit unhappy. Which made me calves cramp up, which made me slouch, which put an upside down smile (aka frown) on my face, which ultimately made me feel not so good.

I really forget what my point is -- I apologize. But it's not the first time I've digressed and lost my focus. After all, I have just spent an entire day looking 5'10" when I'm hardly 5'6" -- my brain's allowed to fart.

So that's how I spent my precious Saturday afternoon -- buying a mop, then using the mop, and then blogging about mop, and then digressing about my feet. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I have.