voluntary cinderella

There’s an odd sense of pleasure derived from cleaning. By no means am I a neat-freak, a Danny Tanner. I have a tendency (loathed by some, lauded by others) to let crap pile up (empty tea cups, popcorn kernels, red sweaters, used post-its, camera lenses, and the like) until my living space is no longer aesthetically pleasing. I don’t deny that I smirk, content, amidst my inspired rubble and ingenious disarray. A little mess; er, a lot of mess, opens up the mind and triggers imagination, allowing productivity to run its course.

I like that my mess festers. Admittedly, I even enjoy the “redolent” scent that wafts from my desk trash can (to a point). I put up with it because it makes both the end and the means all the more enjoyable. Ah, to uncover the carpet underneath the economics homework (eureka!), to substitute Febreeze for the rotting banana stench, to stack, sort, shed, scrub, scour, shine.

I was in one of those rare cleaning moods tonight. I didn’t get back to the dorm until 9 pm, reluctant to delve into politics homework, shower the gym residue off of my body, or simply sit. All I wanted to do was clean; un-begrudging, getting into my “Joe-mode” (that transforms him into an X-man of likes with single-minded drive towards a single task…whether that be photographing cars or cooking scrambled eggs).

washed laundry…check
dried laundry…check
put away laundry…check
stripped bed of four-month old sheets…check
washed four-month old sheets….check (at last!)
put electronics into box…check
opened window to rid the room of certain scents…check
giddily sprayed febreeze…check
dusted desk…check
vacuumed room…check
took out garbage…check
took out recycs…check
made bed…check
cleaned myself (hahaha…aka showered)…check.

and I still had time for the State of the Union address!

I like to clean.

But the best part is I won’t have to do this until three more weeks…and then I can repeat the cycle of attaining satisfaction. room karma.

The best things in life are the small things.