It's because I *am.* I am frantically trying to come up with ANY excuse not to deal with the state of my house. (which, frankly, is probably hovering just above the level of mess where they come take your kids away...)(just kidding. it's not *that* bad. please, utah! don't send someone from the state over!)
You know that it's sad when you procrastinate cleaning until you HAVE to clean to figure out what that putrid, rotting smell is. (Usually, it's a hidden rotten bottle somewhere, or equally as often, a dirty diaper that got stashed under the bed instead of making it to the trash can.)
Oh, the grossness.