Things That Solve Everything

I just found the answer to one of life's most difficult questions: How do I muster up the internal fortitude to clean the dang floors?

Well folks, I am pretty sure that this is it, right here:

This little gem popped up on my Facebook feed like a shining beacon of hope in the darkness of housework drudgery. How Groupon and Facebook knew that I couldn't face the reality of my own floors is a mystery I might never solve, but somehow they captured my slipper fetish in a useful, practical and altogether stylish answer for the perpetually disgusting floor. 

Obviously I ordered three pairs. As well as some for all of my Very Best Friends for Christmas, because I want them to partake in the the solution of global concern as well. It's a big thing you guys. Now every time I go into the kitchen to mix a Moscow Mule, I will be cleaning my floor WITHOUT EVEN MEANING TO. It's as if the Lord smiled down upon all of my good intentions and made a pathway. 

I can't wait to get them and start accidentally cleaning. I am excited enough that I might actually even get up off of the couch to wear them occasionally. Or strap them on to Truck's paws. I would imagine Aspen would never take them off if I let her wear them. My floors will be so clean that I won't have profound guilt when my crawling nephew comes to visit. 

This is the best thing to hit the market since Pajama Jeans. I wonder if they make a vacuuming version for carpets? Googling now, BRB...

Things That Are Dirty (TMI) And Should Maybe Stay That Way

My guts, apparently, needed a cleaning. Like a thorough scrub down, rinse off, exfoliating wash. So I tackled this "3 Day Refresh" along with a 30 day challenge thingy that I am doing, to just give my body a little help in getting better at it's job, which, incidentally, involves not letting me down All Of The Time.

The 3 day refresh promised all kinds of things, like instant weight loss, newfound energy, reduced junk food cravings, blah blah blah, all without feeling hungry.

I must be doing it wrong, because in 2.5 days, I have gained about 10 pounds, turned into a slug and all I can even think about is cheesy bread. Oh, and also, I am starving.

I started out with fear and trepidation about the consequences of avoiding almost all food, cramming packets of fibery goodness down my gullet and waiting for the aftermath. I even chose days that I specifically didn't have to go anywhere, just so I could remain chained to my toilet. What I have discovered instead, is that if you cram enough packets of fibery goodness down your gullet, along with sixteen thousand gallons of water, and some shakes that taste like cardboard that sat under the snow all winter frosted with rancid vanilla, that all of that junk will just get together for one big "celebrate another sucker" party in Liv's gut. I am fairly certain the "fiber sweep" packets joined forces to turn the party into a lock-in so that nobody could escape the fun. If you tossed me into a pool of water right now I would sink like the rock that is in my stomach.

All of those skinny people with shiny faces on the packets? Yeah. They are liars. Don't trust them. I am hungrier than a bear in March, but luckily I have no room in my digestion tract to fit a single bite.

Maybe as soon as the fiber sweep nazis pass out from their non-stop partying I can look forward to an epic cleansing rush that either sends me to the hospital with a ruptured anus or at least relegates me to a full day of Netflix and bed. Most likely it will happen while I am subbing at school for the drama teacher all day. Oh what a lesson in acting that will be...

Once it all works out I will let you know how thin I have become. And how much better I feel about life. But if I don't come out of this weighing 110 pounds, married and rich, I will probably just be ticked off.