I've decided that the only way I am going to survive when I move out of the house is if I figure out how to clean shit up.* So this week I am going to make it my week long goal** to a) box all my junk up, b) rearrange my furniture, and c) unbox all my junk into new and exciting locations and hopefully d) throw 50% of my stuff away in the process. What I hope to accomplish is the feeling that my room is a new, exciting place and pretend like it's my apartment which I have to keep clean. If it's still clean in a month (or even at the end of the week), I'll probably do fine when I move out. If not, Drew, we're moving into the grand canyon because I think that's the only place in the world where I CAN'T cover the entire floor with crap.***
*Not actual fecal matter. But the junk that collects in my room. Do you realize that about four or five times in the past year I have decided to "deep clean" my room and have lugged each time AT LEAST three garbage bags of stuff out of my room and yet there STILL SEEMS TO BE THE SAME VOLUME OF STUFF INSIDE OF MY ROOM???? Who was that dude that sat in the bathtub and figured shit out about displacement and crap? He was full of baloney. Seriously. I disembowled him. OH MY GOD IT'S SO FREAKING LATE.
**you'll see on clone high tonight that I'm making a Clone High reference, because I've already seen it because I'm a total slut, as Aaron would say.
***Again with the "it's not really fecal matter" bit.