Cleaning
23:13
Since I got my own place, I’ve started this obsession with cleaning and it’s taking me by surprise. I used to live with my parents and the only time I help clean is on a Sunday to make them let me watch my shows before we have lunch. When I say help, it means, I dust all porcelains, figurines, and family pictures. That’s the only cleaning I grew up doing. Oh wait, I know how to mop, too. It was one of my mother’s requirements for us to have a pet. We used to have a carpet but when the dog started doing his thing on it and mother made us wash the whole thing - WASH! NOT VACUUM! my father decided, it’s better to throw it away. Uhm, yea!
I
don’t really have help in maintaining my place, so, I kinda get irritated when
I get home and see stuff not in place or dusty. Well, I live alone now, so, whose
mess is that? Mine. It also triggers my allergies, I can't afford to let dust
build up or invite creepy crawlies to hang around like those in Joe’s
apartment. When you got used to a clean house, I tell you, it’ll force you to
clean up after yourself, especially when you know there’s no one else who’ll do it for you.
I’ve
been telling my mother how her being neat in the house starts rubbing off on
me that the slightest strand of hair on the floor ticks me off. My place is not
really that squeaky clean but I try my best to make it less like a literal
litterbox.
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