MoP 8: A clutter of thoughts

Today's poem is a verbal defrag. It's not very pretty and doesn't make a lot of sense if you don't hang out in my head. Sorry about that.

The sink is dirty.

The laundry needs folding.

My laptop is randomly BSODing.

There are claw-holes in the screen door.

The cats aren't eating. Why aren't the cats eating?

Does anyone ever actually sell anything on Madeit?

I cut out a dress a week ago, but haven't sewn it yet.

The dishwasher's taking up too much space, but I can't sell it.

Someone bought something off me for 99 cents on Ebay and won't pay.

The bottle of juice won't fit in the fridge now that I've put the milk away.

At least I've blocked Youtube so I can't blow any more data watching ponies.

Is this misprinted CD that says I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue but is actually Hancock's Half Hour rare and valuable, or just a piece of crap?

Am I lazy?

Am I taking on too much?

Should I be more organised?

Or is this level of chaos normal?