My place was a wreck. Clothes were everywhere, the fridge was littered with old pizza boxes, each room looked like it was hit by a different tornado and an atomic bomb at the same time. I’d blame it on house-guests, but hadn’t had any. I’d have blamed it on Schultz, but he’s been wherever he goes to when he’s not bothering me. Truth is, its all me. I had been so busy lately, that I had let my apartment slip a little.
I couldn’t take it anymore. No excuses!