Not prepared

Mondays have such a bad rap - no one likes them. Well, that's for a reason! Monday is usually my laundry day, but I didn't know how bad I would need to do it. Until I went to get ready for the day and saw I needed to do a load before I could do any getting ready. So now, it's mid-afternoon and I'm still in my pj's. And we're not talking sweats and a t-shirt - it's the bottom-of-the-barrel pj's (hence the laundry). So I continue with the day while the clothes get clean when I hear the doorbell. Oh shoot. I look through the peephole thingy thinking maybe I can fool them and not answer the door, except two men dressed in uniform happened to be there. You can't ignore the police. So I do what any good citizen would do and answer the door, except I peek out, trying to hide my unkempt appearance. I'm sure I reeked of innocence.

I ask what they want and they ask for the name of someone. I of course have no clue who it is, so I answer fast, hoping to get rid of them. They asked if she left a forwarding address and I answer no. All this time I'm being curt because I'm embarrassed. Finally they leave, and I close the door thinking that I probably sounded like I was lying.

So if I call one of you for bail or something, you know you can blame it all on the laundry.