The mess is out of control and absolutely insane-making. For example: I found my laptop under layers of blankets that have been chip-clipped to the furniture, the drapery, and, apparently, my laptop. Inside this fortress I found a Roald Dahl box-set (awesome!), a notebook and pencils (still awesome), a used-to-be tube of crackers that is now sodden sog-drooled paper shreds (not awesome) and my husband's Ipad (definitely not awesome). The trail winding through my house is getting narrower and narrower. I must clean.
Although....if a burgler were to come into my house, (giant dog notwithstanding, which he probably wouldn't if said burglar had a cookie), this burgler would not get very far. He would trip over the recycle bags waiting to go out, fall onto the dining room chairs in the hallway (former support for other fortresses), tumble into the heap of...I don't know what the hell is in that heap...and decide to get out of here as soon as the giant dog stops slurping his face. So, I can only conclude that my mother-bear instinct is so strong I subconsciously booby-trap my house against invasion.
Still, I would like to be able to find my laptop. And my phone. And my shoes. And my keys, and the sweater I just frigging bought and the shopping bag was ridiculously big so where the hell could it have gone?! Probably in that awful heap over there....
