Chasing dust-bunnies

This week, while the spouse and the child are away, I find an endless joy in achieving and maintaining a level of cleanliness and tidiness denied to me otherwise. My Swiffer sweeper is busily exploring corners and edges underneath furniture. My Lysol wipes are attacking every bit of grime and grease in the kitchen, every splatter of coffee, every spot of gunk. I am particularly triumphant because we now live in a small city apartment with hardwood floors. You can traverse the entire apartment, at a leisurely stroll, in a handful of seconds. This is bad, I know. But in terms of keeping tidy? It’s wonderful. There are no corners I cannot reach. I am master of this domain.

But now that I am going micro on this endeavor, I’m finding that the endeavor is also bottomless.

I am chasing dust-bunnies all day. Wikipedia claims that dust-bunnies are “small clumps of dust that form under furniture and in corners that are not cleaned regularly.” Wikipedia LIES. Dust-bunnies appear within hours of a thorough cleaning.

Is it the cat? Is it hair-shedding season? I don’t know. But is this level of constant vigilance is what normal people live? Is this how they maintain a lovely interior whenever you drop by? Because that’s just not acceptable. Maintaining this level of tidiness most of the time is like air-brushing. It sets the rest of us up for failure. It’s completely impossible. I can maintain it when I’m the only person at home, but it’s going to be difficult when the other two return, and dump their devices, shoes, receipts, etc etc etc on the kitchen table, by the shoe-rack, on every clear surface available. When you are the only person in the family who actually sees dust-bunnies, you are at a huge disadvantage.

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