This Thursday night Joe tackled one of the numerous projects on our ever-growing list of Things to Do So That We May Have a Perfect Life. The project? Organizing and alphabetizing our CD collection.
One would think this would be much more of a Jen kind of job, given my penchant for CD order and my fondness for being able to locate Journey's Greatest Hits with minimal profanity because JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH, WHERE THE HELL IS IT? I NEED TO HEAR "STONE IN LOVE!".
Yes, one would think, but one would be wrong. For all the order-lovin' genes camped out in my DNA, CD and album organizing just aren't part of my unique genetic sequencing.
Joe, surprisingly, does have the CD and album organization gene, and it became increasingly clear as he went from room to room, gathering renegade CDs and letting his highly refined classification skills whip their asses into alphabetical submission.
The one thing I don't like however is the CD tower. Could we live without it?
This was when Joe once again presented the Valuable Living Space Argument, which I'll admit is a hard one to counter. But that's what triggered the stuff that does live in my DNA, in other words, the real reason I've come to despise the tower:
"True, it doesn't take up that much space. But it gets really dusty and looks like Hell."
"Oh, it doesn't look THAT bad."
"How many times have you dusted it?"
"How many times have you been to Hell?"
Duly noted.
Just remember though, when I do show up in Hell—because at this point, it's not really a question of if, but when—and find I've been assigned to clean in a super heated room full of dust-caked CD towers for all of eternity, don't be surprised to get a call from Jesus telling you to check your email for a rather pointed told you so message from me.