The smell of garbage turns me into a wild woman!
I am weakened with heat exhaustion and overexertion. I may just swoon. It's not humane to expect me to clean in this heat. I am a delicate flower, you know. I may just have to jump in the car and buy something expensive, soon.
Here is my plan, if it works out. Mrs. Moon and I think that Mr. Moon should come over to my house after work. And he should go swimming with us, as we'll be all hot and tired. Then, when the sun starts to set, Mr. Moon and I can pull a dumpster across the parking lot, and situate it under my balcony. One of us, probably me, will toss garbage over the balcony and into the dumpster. While the other mans the dumpster and tells anyone who protests to fuck off. That way, we can just stack any garbage on my balcony while we clean, and we'll have the excitement of tossing stuff off a balcony to look forward to later. What's the worst that can happen? The managers tell me, the next day, to never do that again and I say, "ok. but never announce you are invading my private space with only three [working] days notice again, ya bastards. I need at least a weekend."
I may be a big dork, but I've always wanted to do that. What a time saver.
Edited to add at 7:56 pm:
whoooo-boy and I procrastinating. I damn near started updating to MovableType 3.0... just to avoid the cleaning. Also, for about five minutes, all the colors in my style sheet changed, but you probably didn't notice because I changed them right back. I was just playing. There is no satisfactory blue color, in the web spectrum.