There’s a repairman coming to my house this week to fix my oven, so he’s going to see my kitchen, living room, and dining room, and I really want to impress him with how clean and organized my house is. Well, except I don’t. But apparently I should. Supposedly. I don’t know. I mean, the house isn’t trashed or filthy — it just looks like a couple of young kids live here with parents who are too busy with life to keep the house spotless. Ironically, that’s true because it’s true. Well, I reckon that’s unironically, since the situation and explanation should be normal and okay. (What is it called when irony is ironic? Or if a lack of irony is actually irony? Are there terms for such confusion? But that’s a rabbit trail for another day… or not.)
Where was I? Oh, yeah, making a good impression with the repairman. I don’t know him. I’ve seen him once before, when he diagnosed the problem with my oven and had to order parts. I think I’d still classify him as a visitor, since I don’t even know his name. Maybe I should get to know him. After all, his opinion of my house is apparently really important and valuable, such that it causes stress and we need to clean a lot. So should I invite him over for dinner sometime? Although, on second thought, that might be awkward. Actually, this whole idea is awkward.
So what’s going on here? Basically, the post is satire but is based on actual events. The confusion is real. The awkwardness is unfortunately real. But here is the dramatic twist in the narrative — you can be the hero! Yes, you! Wait, before you click away, I’m not dragging you into this quagmire. There’s no further need to judge my house or repair my oven. Where you can help is by explaining what’s going on here. Why should I care what the repairman thinks of how clean and organized my house is? Are there legitimate reasons, or is this a load of malarkey? I report, you decide. If you understand, please leave a comment.