I Passed Inspection.

Apparently, the bubbling concoction of chemicals I created to clean every inch of my apartment either sufficed to reach the level of cleanliness appropriate for my landlord or simply left enough fumes lingering to numb their senses. The living room and kitchen were so immaculate, she did not even go into my bathroom. Hopefully my fellow Americans will know I proudly represented my heritage today. At least my parents who are rather fond of perhaps even unhealthy levels of disinfectant should be proud.