March 26th, 2017

The wrinkles inside my brain



It’s 10:15 a.m. when the coffee kicks in. I look at the floors. I have to run the vacuum cleaner over them, even though I ran it at 6 last night and they’re clean.

The bathroom’s white tile floor will need the most work. I’ll vacuum it once to pick up each speck that six dogs and three people track into the room. Then I’ll go over it again.

And then I’ll get on my hands and knees and clean each tile with a disinfectant wipe, even though I did it yesterday. I’ll use several wipes, even though I cleaned the floor last night. I’ll open the windows and close the door to make sure a whiff of the wipers doesn’t whisper into the rest of the house.

When the coffee kicks in, I’m sitting at my desk and see dust on the office furniture, so I add cleaning it to the day’s must-do list. I’ll have to empty every shelf and clear every surface, wiping them down with spray cleaner and a paper towel. Then I’ll have to polish it, just in case I left behind any streaks from the spray cleaner.
Collapse )