I cleaned the apartment last night. I was on top of it for the first time in a while. Mainly because I realized that I hit my dirty threshold. No longer did I want to walk on the well placed pizza crumb. For I have a Swiffer, with the mop covers. Pushing that around was very much like just pushing a wet paper towel. But this says Swiffer, and thus is now a cleaner apartment.
Cleaning is the best realization to how much harder you need to work. It is sort of the swim suit of housing. I tell you I had spent way too long ignoring the healthy habits of mopping and dusting.
After that I was so hopped up on initiative that I even made my lunch for the week and ironed for the week. Some of you wonder why do I mention this trivial info. Nothing is ever trivial, but often times boring as hell.
I did try to hop over the iron that was on, again the lack of vertical rise I have. I tripped, pulled the hot iron down, grazing my foot. Domestication does come at price. Whether it be dignity or layers of flesh is undetermined.
(I did go to a bachelor party but I can't disclose any of that for you women are better connected than we thought)