My situation is hopeless. Hopeless, I tell you.
I have been cleaning my apartment for half an hour a night for the past three nights, and it still hasn't made a dent in the mess. I think the disgusting clutter has reached a critical mass and can only be stopped by the cleansing fire of, well, fire. I'm really sad that it has come to this.
Well, perhaps I need a new plan of attack before I use the final contingency. Perhaps I'm just going about this "cleaning" activity all wrong due to my pathetic inexperience with the matter. Perhaps I need to spend more time sitting around thinking about cleaning instead of actually cleaning, and if I could draw up some nifty diagrams on MS Paint, to scale, while I do that, I'm sure it will prove effective AND entertaining.
Oooh! Or maybe I could call HGTV or TLC and go on one of their "Can you believe nimrods like this guy who can't take care of himself actually exist? Watch us turn his life around from dud to stud for under forty bucks!" At this point, I'm not too proud.
Or, if someone I haven't seen in a few years happened to come in from out of town, I might be externally motivated enough to actually clean something up. I don't know. Something has to be done soon.