It used to be “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” Hey, you have to admit it’s a catchy song.

Then it was “I am not a feline dominatrix (old email address was badbadkittygirl).”

It changed to “Don’t kill anyone. For the love of God, put the fork down.” Well, mainly that was Beth, trying to keep me from breaking my New Year’s Resolution.

My side bar lists one of my favorites – “Embrace Chaos. Adore Chaos. Give Chaos a big kiss on the mouth.” I also enjoy “Some people march to the beat of their own drummer. I have my own percussion section.”

But my new one, the one that has kept me from snapping and throwing things out the window (not a good idea when you live on the 26th floor) in a desperate bid to finally finish cleaning, was as follows:

“Screw the damage deposit.”

Keem and I were sitting on the couch, trying to get up the energy to get in action for hour 8 of the 10 1/2 hours we spent in stupid cleaning mode yesterday, and one of would list off something that we needed to do.

Keem: I need to wipe down the light fixtures.
DM: Screw the light fixtures.

Brief moment while we drink some water and pretend it’s a pina colada on the beach.

DM: I need to change that toilet seat.
Keem: Screw the toilet seat.

Brief moment where we giggled because we were incredibly punchy (exposure to lots and lots of bleach based cleaning products) and tired.

I also have another mantra. “I am never moving again. I am never moving again. I am never moving again.”

I have decided that if Keem or I ever get married, our new husbands are just moving into this apartment. Or they can have their own apartment on another floor and we’ll just make conjugal visits. Works for me.

But we’re done. Except for moving the couch, two lamps and two stools, everything is upstairs. Scattered everywhere. But it’s there.

Missy, if you could send Marco on over, I’d be forever grateful.

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