This afternoon a photographer from the Strib came over to Supergenius HQ to take my picture. I’m, allegedly, going to be featured in a story about eBooks vs. Regular Books. Much to the photog’s surprise, I was the regular book reader. There must be some sort of Eau de Gadgetnerd about me. I don’t know.
Have I mentioned lately that I hate having my picture taken? Well, I do. It’s unnerving and weird and makes you feel like the vainest person ever. Blargh. I have a recurring nightmare that involves commenters from the Strib talking about the hideousness of my double chin. Barf.
But this isn’t about my vanity or the fact that I haven’t colored my hair since October so there’s a lot of shiny silver hairs running mad around my head.
No, instead this is about how all the hard work I did this weekend was undone in the name of staging.
As soon as I got off the phone with the reporter where we discussed the picture I set about cleaning up this joint. You might think I exaggerate my own filth for the sake of humor, but it is not hyperbole. I’m serious, my house looks like it’s in soft focus because the combination of dust and cat hair makes everything look kind of soft-edged and hazy.
A few weeks ago I was at Atom & BFK’s house for dinner and waxed poetically about how clouds of dust occasionally break free from the ceiling fan suspended twenty-feet in the air a waft gently down to the floor to join all the rest of the dust. Sister #2 likes to make me feel better about the state of my house by saying it gets so dusty because I have no cross breeze and also that fan suspend twenty-feet in the air.
But the truth is, I’m a bad housekeeper. It’s just me here and I can go weeks and weeks and probably months without ever really using the diningroom table for anything other than a place to heap crap I don’t feel like putting away. Also, paw prints in the dust. I’m not even lying.
So anyway, this weekend I cleaned my house and put all the books in order. It was a chore. Such a chore that Jaycie came over to help me dust and alphabetize the fiction. It was a lot of fun and I was more than a little proud that she went home with at least five books she wanted to read.
With the house all nice and cleaned and in order I spent most of the day in a jittery anxious state of “why did I agree to let them take my picture.” That mostly disappeared once the photog arrived. She was super nice and fun to talk to and asked questions while she snapped incessantly.
Then she stopped and said, “Do you think we could stack some of the books around on the arm of the chair?”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked as I hauled myself out of the La-Z-Grl and started grabbing books from the case and putting them on the arms of the chair. “This is how it usually looks. I just cleaned up because I knew you were coming.”
I didn’t mention the dust though. That will just be our dirty little secret, right Internet?