Not a state of mind, but a destination.
I'm pretty sure the dryer is tapping out death threats in morse code and the broom is creating dust-bunny-voodoo-dolls that bear an astonishing resemblance to certain writers of this blog.
Do you think it's time to clean?
Nah. Wait 'till you start hearing your vacuum whir at night. Then go for it.
What is that? Remnants of a poopy diaper dinner?
No way. You need to see full name before you even START thinking about cleaning:)
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