In anticipation of Jenny’s arrival the time has come for me to do what I hate most: adult things.
Damn it! After a full lifetime of barely trying at anything and being a slob I managed to fall in love with an amazing woman which means I have to get myself organizized.
This means cleaning my apartment completely to fool her into not running away immediately.
Cleaning and I don’t get along too well. I’m not an absolute pig. I also don’t have very many things. I grew up in a house with a “messy room” so it’s pretty easy for me to avoid compiling junk. My flaw with cleaning is with those little things like wiping ever single window blind or my butt after each poop. I’m kidding, of course. Nobody can survive with a dirty butt. It’s just one of those things humans have not evolved beyond. I’m sure the Japanese are already trying to invent some sort of way around it.
I started cleaning last weekend. Beginning with the bathroom sink like an idiot because I will still shave and mess it up multiple times before Jenny gets here, I then turned my attention to the medicine cabinet. Inside there were lots of expired medications. Before I knew it I was throwing a lot of trash out and reorganizing my two closets. I managed to fill up two garbage bags of trash even though I really didn’t think I had two garbage bags of objects to keep. Most of the trash was paperwork from things I no longer own or credit cards I never bothered to activate. Hopefully this means the government questions whether I’m still alive.
My whole intention of cleaning stage one was to get rid of some dust or weird balls of hair that get caught under corners. Instead, I got rid of boxes of objects which required two trips to the dumpster outside. I’d say my cleaning was 5% complete over the two hours I dedicated toward being less of a slob.
The good news is my apartment is pretty small. I also have very little else to throw away so the next time I do decide to clean can be dedicated toward wiping the floors, dusting the corners, and spraying the shit out of every object with Lysol.
Jenny and I only have two weekends apart until she’s here. I’ll continue to clean whenever I can. The last thing I want I for her to think he married a man who doesn’t own a couch.
That reminds me. I need a couch.