Throwing the last few forks and dishes into the dishwasher, she stood still a moment and surveyed the kitchen. A few minor splashes of water were nothing to worry about. As she went to walk out of the kitchen and into her room, her sandal stuck to the floor. She looked down and grimaced at the sticky-surfaced tile she would have to mop later. Contemptuously, she walked out of the kitchen conciously noting every time her feet had difficulty raising from the surface and silently cursing her sloppy sisters. A glance around the living room told a story similar to the kitchen but nowhere near as sticky or messy. Looking at the one sister on the couch and noting her mother's placement on her all too familiar chair, she wondered where the missing sister was until she heard strains of a Backstreet Boys song drifting lazily from underneath the closed bedroom door down the hall. She gloomily remembered the bathroom that desparately needed cleaning again. Strolling through the living room towards the sliding glass door which was the enterance to her bedroom, she paid little or no attention to the cartoons on the TV or her family members. They paid equal attention to her prescence, barely swerving their heads when she walked in the way of the television.

Once inside the sanctuary better known as her bedroom she slammed the sliding glass door with a small smirk of satisfaction and sat down in the chair to the computer desk with a tiny sigh. By the way it was behaving, something was wrong with the hard drive of the computer that was most likely caused by her sisters' antics with the fuse box. She pressed the power button with hands that seemed so weary that one might have thought she had been holding the world over her head all day. She watched the monitor go through the usual setup procedure half-heartedly as a cat jumped onto the desk, mewing and purring in a small battle for her attention. Alternately petting the cat and hitting keys on the keyboard, she inserted a CD in to the disk drive and started up the rock music that only she in this family was so fond of. Sure her mom liked Pink Floyd and most of the older rockers but no one in the house but her could warm up to the 8th street kids or Marilyn Manson not to mention Ozzy Osbourne etcetera. Going into the winfile program, she could see nothing on the surface of the main frame that seemed wrong. Going through her mental files, she recalled the programs that had been screwing up as of late and went into their files. She was exploring the file of Solitare when her sister came in through the sliding glass door without knocking, demanding a kiss and hug before going off to dreamland. She ventured out of her room on the heels of her sister, seeing who was going to bed and trying to find out if her other sister was staying up. Seeing Chrissy rush towards her as Quinn had done moments before, she opened her arms and gave another hug and kiss to her other sister, remembering the kitchen floor and resolving to mop it as soon as her sisters were asleep. They always took about 30 minutes to calm down to the point where they'd go to sleep. Watching them go off to their separate rooms, she glanced out into the kitchen to make sure it hadn't gotten any messier. It hadn't. Returning to her own room, she finished going through the files and found that one had somehow gotten placed in the wrong directory. Clicking and dragging away the problem, a small smile sought the company of her lips, giving her the look of gentle triumph that she felt but not too often. Pausing her CD, she went into the Start menu and put the computer on suspend. Then she left her room and obligatorialy mopped the floor as she had said she would yesterday.

She shouldn't have put it off. The floor had so much stuff stuck on it that she had to get out the steel wool scubber and go down on the floor scrubbing up lord knows what from months ago. Silently she wondered when was the last time anyone had mopped out here. Taking about 15 minutes to sweep the floor before beginning to mop, she spent about another 45 just try to get the stuff off of the floor. It didnt want to go and stayed glued to the floor in a large discolored lump until she scrubbed it into nonexistance. She then washed her hands for 5 minutes with antibacterial cleaner and returned to her computer. She could feel another one of her poems forming in her mind. Yet another thing to add to her web site, although it was already overflowing with poems. The one thing she could actually do half-way decently was write abstract poems that were given mostly positive critisism. Tapping the mouse slightly to bring the computer out of suspension, she restarted her CD and opened her trusty notepad. She only felt comfortable writing her poems either in the notepad or long hand. One of her many quirks, she mused as she typed rapidly. Saving her newest creation to the light blue 3.5" floppy disk she saved all her works on, a sense of ease drifted quietly over her as notes from a Manson song flooded gently yet forcibly through her room. The cat stood up on the desk, blocking her view of the monitor with a streatch and a yawn that seemed almost felinely impossible. He looked sleepily down at the keyboard that was still rolled out and halfway considered taking a stroll across it when he found himself sky rocketed into the the air via her hands and placed ever so carefully on the ground. He looked up at her as if to ask why she had ruined his fun and trotted over to her dresser where he lay down for a longer snooze than the previous one. Leaning back in her chair and slightly rocking back and forth, she gazed around her room, noting the messiness that gave it an aura of "hers"and wondering why everyone insisted that she cleaned it when it was neat enough. Something for her to occupy her spare time with tomorrow. She sat back up and opened the Mah Jongg game, enjoying the few minutes of leisure time she had snagged for herself before her mother decided it was bed time for her.