dusty things
I'm beginning to wonder if i didn't title my fic what I did because my house is literally full of dust. I have just spent the better part of four hours cleaning TWO small bookcases in my kitchen. Two. Pulling everything off of them, scrubbing off the thick layer of grease/dust/pet hair that always seems to build up in kitchens, and which you don't notice because how often do you really pull out all those cookbooks anyway?
And there's so much JUNK, too. Where does it come from? Why did I save some broken bit of plastic that doesn't apparently go to anything in my house, but which has been lovingly tossed into the Bowl Of All Small Things that sits besides the Change Bowl That Holds Everything But Change. Why do I have a plastic pirate ring that squirts water? Four pairs of irreparably broken sunglasses? A small collection of horribly ugly (and not even charmingly so) coffee mugs? Why have we saved ads for magazines for the last four years? Why?
But moving means cleaning (and people coming to look at the house definitely means cleaning) so I might as well go through all this stuff now before I have to figure out how to stuff it in boxes.
Some of it got tossed. Some will get repurposed, but so many things are just getting junked right now before I can convince myself that I really NEED that loose screw that doesn't appear to go to anything (I did not check to see if it belongs in my head, however... hmmmm).
In other news, I think I wrote close to 1000 words today, or last night or some combination of the two. So, yay. Go me.
And there's so much JUNK, too. Where does it come from? Why did I save some broken bit of plastic that doesn't apparently go to anything in my house, but which has been lovingly tossed into the Bowl Of All Small Things that sits besides the Change Bowl That Holds Everything But Change. Why do I have a plastic pirate ring that squirts water? Four pairs of irreparably broken sunglasses? A small collection of horribly ugly (and not even charmingly so) coffee mugs? Why have we saved ads for magazines for the last four years? Why?
But moving means cleaning (and people coming to look at the house definitely means cleaning) so I might as well go through all this stuff now before I have to figure out how to stuff it in boxes.
Some of it got tossed. Some will get repurposed, but so many things are just getting junked right now before I can convince myself that I really NEED that loose screw that doesn't appear to go to anything (I did not check to see if it belongs in my head, however... hmmmm).
In other news, I think I wrote close to 1000 words today, or last night or some combination of the two. So, yay. Go me.