A Moderate Amount of Filth
So I'm going away for about a week and I'm running around trying to get everything tied up before I leave the city. That includes cleaning the apartment from top to bottom in advance of my lovely cat-sitter coming to stay. (Yes, Bast has a cat - how odd, no?)
This got me thinking about various levels of cleanliness. I really enjoy living on my own because I can actually put up with a moderate amount of filth. I do finally reach a threshold point where I must, and I do, clean. I think I like to see the dirt first, so when I clean, I know it's gone. I've lived with many, many people in the past, though, and that's where the different levels of clean come in. I lived with one room-mate in Spain who made each of us clean the apartment once a week. There were four of us, which meant on any given day there was a high probability of walking in on a wet floor. Granted, there were many cockroaches that bunked in with us too, so perhaps it was a good idea.
I actually had a spat with one of my room-mates in Ottawa about this very issue. I kept telling her that I could put up with more dirt than she could, and just because her tolerance was lower than mine didn't mean I had to clean in order to have the place up to her level. My Goddess it was difficult.
So that brings me back to the here and now. I must on some unconscious level know that my level of clean is not shared by others, or why else would I be cleaning now? I guess I don't want people to think I'm a little piglet - which I am. So it's all about keeping up appearances, right?
It's all very confusing - and I have to go clean a toilet.
So I'm going away for about a week and I'm running around trying to get everything tied up before I leave the city. That includes cleaning the apartment from top to bottom in advance of my lovely cat-sitter coming to stay. (Yes, Bast has a cat - how odd, no?)
This got me thinking about various levels of cleanliness. I really enjoy living on my own because I can actually put up with a moderate amount of filth. I do finally reach a threshold point where I must, and I do, clean. I think I like to see the dirt first, so when I clean, I know it's gone. I've lived with many, many people in the past, though, and that's where the different levels of clean come in. I lived with one room-mate in Spain who made each of us clean the apartment once a week. There were four of us, which meant on any given day there was a high probability of walking in on a wet floor. Granted, there were many cockroaches that bunked in with us too, so perhaps it was a good idea.
I actually had a spat with one of my room-mates in Ottawa about this very issue. I kept telling her that I could put up with more dirt than she could, and just because her tolerance was lower than mine didn't mean I had to clean in order to have the place up to her level. My Goddess it was difficult.
So that brings me back to the here and now. I must on some unconscious level know that my level of clean is not shared by others, or why else would I be cleaning now? I guess I don't want people to think I'm a little piglet - which I am. So it's all about keeping up appearances, right?
It's all very confusing - and I have to go clean a toilet.
Comments
But hell, girl, it's your place. You live in it as you please! (Just tell any cockroaches to pack it up and move on before the poker game!)