Holy crap...

was my carpet dirty!  I had it steam-cleaned today for several reasons.  One: Aggie has accidents.  But she's twelve and I love her, so big deal - it's just a rug.  Two: the carpet by the front door was especially dirty and I wanted it to be presentable for tax season since that area is, in a manner of speaking, my lobby.  And three - the main reason for the big rush - was the notice I got stating that all units would be inspected between January 3 and 5!  I about had a heart attack - I've never lived in a rented space before (except my college dorm) and I didn't know that inspections were something the management company did in the real world.  I flew into panic mode - I had a lot of stuff to dust and scrub to my normal standard of clean before this inspection looming large on my horizon.  I rang the carpet cleaners who did a magnificent job on the old apartment when I moved to this one and they couldn't come until today.  Yikes!  I called the condo office and told Mark that I couldn't be ready for any inspection until Wednesday.  No problem, he assured me, since lots of people had scheduling conflicts as well.  That little wrinkle having been take care of, the procrastinator part of my perfectionist personality took over and I put everything off until this morning.  So I'm up early, frantically scrubbing the bathroom and vacuuming the floor in anticipation of the carpet cleaners' arrival at eleven.  I waited.  And I waited.  I waited some more.  They finally appeared at one-thirty and in the space of twenty minutes, my carpet went from grunge to glorious - and I really had no idea it was quite that grimy.  Anyhow, I paid the miracle workers and they went on their merry way to bring joy throughout the land.  I waited.  And I waited.  I waited some more.  At about five-thirty I rang the condo office and asked if they forgot me.  No, Mark assured me, they inspected all the apartments they wanted to see and the new owners of the complex were apparently satisfied with what they saw.  Aha!  So that's what this was all about - and regular unit inspections are only the hobgoblins of my overactive imagination.  Thank you, Jesus!  In my week long state of panic, I thought I'd somehow been transported back to college, where (and my old roommate Anne Estelle Davis can verify this) I vacuumed compulsively, straightened the wayward clothing in both her closet and mine while continually keeping watch on the bathroom because I lived in fear of the resident director's white glove tests.  Her "watch for lint on the floor" comment on our first room inspection just about undid me.  Anne didn't care.  People called us Felix and Oscar for good reason.  While I love Anne to death and she continues to be an inspiration to me after almost thirty-five years, this girl did not concern herself with housekeeping, laundry or making her bed.  We made a good team, though.  She kept me on a straight and narrow spiritual path and I made sure she had clean sheets on a regular basis.  Anne used to say, "I love when you make my bed; it's like sleeping in a rubber band."  High praise indeed.

I don't think I'll tell her how dirty my carpet was.