The mess of my other hobby

It is the usual mess again in my apartment when I return from my daily selling sessions at the Anne Frank House, still having that distinct feeling deep inside my Farang Phii that I carry that poor Jewish girl's fate with me every time I leave that Numero uno toursit hotspot here in my beloved mokum, cycling home through the old Amsterdam neighborhood called the Jordaan where nearly every inhabitant seems to know me sitting outside and enjoying the continueing good weather asking about my little one-man street business when I cycle by, my old and battered Mandala suitcase strapped to the back of my Raleigh Velo , "how many Indian Games today, Hans?" often ringing in my ears...

Back to my house in the Amsterdam Westerpark where the mess of my other hobby is awaiting me, stained brushes and jars of acrylics, half finished artwork blocking my way, empty German beer cans and half full bottles of Mooi Kaap red wine, spray cans and unwashed dishes in my shower room...

Shit, I need to clean this mess before my imminent departure for Bangkok in just under three weeks...how will I explain this madhouse mess to Miss Andoo when she, hopefully, returns with me to the Dutch capital...