Serenity, thy name is vacuum tracks
Not to sound neurotic (ahem), but I do love me some vacuum tracks.
The drive home from campus on the godforsaken blight on civilization that is Interstate 30 leaves me twitchy and in sore need of either a backrub or one righteous margarita. Lamentably (cue the strings section) I have no one to give me a backrub, and margaritas, while undeniably delicious AND nutritious, aren't very practical on weeknights. And, as I've mentioned, I'm not eating meat anymore and therefore can't calm myself by gnawing on leathery animal flesh.
What's a girl to do? Well, I'll tell you: I vacuum. At least once a week. I love, love, love to vacuum. There's something about taking a lint-strewn floor and turning it into an immaculate landscape of fresh vacuum tracks that soothes my very core. Why? I don't know, but I'd imagine it's related to my love of editing -- taking messy language and turning it into something pleasing to the ear and eye.
My neighbors must think I'm insane. I often don't get home until well past 9 p.m. on school nights, and I leave the blinds open until bedtime because for some reason it makes my apartment seem larger. I'm pretty sure that if they wanted to, my neighbors across the street could bear witness to my cleaning frenzies (and my late-night adventures in furniture rearranging -- I never sleep, remember?). Do the fear of judgment and the advanced hour deter me? No, my friends, they do not. I'll whip out the old Eureka Boss Plus when I damn well please, even if it's 9:30 p.m. -- or later. Let them think I'm some meth-crazed lunatic. See if I care!
This isn't all about relaxation and aesthetics, however. I've found that a well-vacuumed apartment helps me study. Why? Again, it's a mystery, but I suspect my cluttered brain appreciates an ordered workspace. Of course I CAN learn in a dirty environment, and I don't mind at all spending time in messy homes. And though this may be unfair, I don't entirely trust men with clean apartments (or with more bath products than me, but that's a whole other ball of wax).
And now, gentle readers, I bid you goodnight. I have chapters to read before I (if I) sleep.
