so I don’t know if it was yesterday’s post that finally inspired me, or whether it was the super-vivid, early-morning visions of what was growing in my sink, but I cleaned today.
Actually, I know what it was. Special k lay so still in my arms this morning in bed, and because I was still mostly asleep I could interpret his stillness perfectly. “Don’t be disheartened!” I said.
And though I could feel how every cell in his body longed to just stay in bed forever, he still got himself up and went off to run a cafe/slay dragons. I dunno, would you be able to have a lazy day after that, if the gorgeous man was paying for you to follow your dreams?
Anyway. Off topic. The point is that aside from all the “averting the apocalypse” stuff from yesterday’s post, cleaning my space cleans my mind. I walk through my flat and my brain is quiet.
So I’m wondering whether, for people who are obsessively clean, creating a bit of mess is ever this cathartic.