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09/26/2003 Entry: "Clean, The Cleanest I've Been."
Do Laundry. Vacuum carpets. Last night I made a list of all the chores I needed to do before this weekend, and it's turned out to be a rather impressive list. Mop kitchen. Check guest sheets. Nuns are coming into town and will be staying at our house for the Folsom Street Fair this weekend, so I needed to do something before the glitter-to-carpet ratio in the apartment reversed. Scrub toilet. Clean bathtub. I've been slack this past week, spending my weekend drinking with the Jug Wine Festival and enjoying the company of my favorite unicorns Keith and Aaron; and during the week I have been sitting on my ass playing Bookworm and Rocket Mania instead of getting anything accomplished around the house. Fix duvet cover. Change sheets. It's not so bad, really; I love to make to do lists, and I frankly enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that I've removed the dirt and scum from the places that need it, which is why the bathroom is actually the most satisfying place for me to clean. Get groceries. Check sale at Office Max. I know I've accomplished something when I've removed hard water stains from the shower doors and made the porcelain ultrawhite again. Wipe table. Empty trash and recycling. But right now I am tired, it being one in the morning after a long day, pitching in a project which was spinning slightly out of control, the kind of project that doesn't really need a few bodies thrown at it as much as just one organized body with enough time (as if there's ever enough time at anyone's work.) Sort paperwork. Pay bills. Cleaning like this is particularly useful when things are feeling out of control, though it's not necessary to have both—it's no less satisfying to bring out an old toothbrush to really get at the grout in the shower when I'm in a good mood as when I'm in a sour one. Update calendar. Send in rebate. But it is now well after midnight and I am still considering mopping the kitchen, even though Vince told me that only crackheads mop their kitchens at midnight. Bleach countertop. Buy soap and TP. I walked past a crackhead today at lunch; he was in a grey hoodie smoking crack by the side door of a nearby Chinese restaurant. Make new to-do List. How can I be a crackhead if I don't smoke crack?
Yeah, maybe I mixed a couple kinds of cleaner together; it works better that way. Why do you ask?
Replies: 2 comments
no, Vince, tweakers and anorexics mop the kitchen at midnight. baseheads, um, i don't think cleaning because of paranoia or punishment is very important to them.
Posted by aaron @ 09/26/2003 09:35 AM PST
LOL... I think that when Casey runs out of stuff to clean at his house, he can come start on mine.. I am just so giving that way..
Posted by sillynun @ 09/26/2003 10:43 AM PST