Domestic calamity, tedium untethered
May 6th, 2006 by Bill
Outside, the greening of the world continues. Inside, the dullness of domesticity has been loosed from its bounds as I embark on a weekend of … of … of I don’t know what except it involves cleaning and fixing and so on.
It begins with the bathroom, the Tower of London of modern life. Our vanity, hygienic obsessions and bowel movements chain us to this torturous cubicle in a variety of ways not the least of which is our need to prove our shit don’t stink.
Anyway … yesterday I discovered a clogged bathtub drain. Today, I’m attempting to unclog it. Afterwards, assuming success, I’ll be cleaning that tub, then the toilet, then the counter and the floor and everything else in that horrible little room that demands a gleam that none but my bum will see.
I hate bathrooms.
And after that … there are ten billion books and DVDs laying scattered about that want housing. There are floors that want sweeping. Crap that wants disposing.
And so on.
Ah, if only filth were fashionable. If only clutter and chaos were cool.
If only I could put a lid on this annoying alliteration. Then – oh then! – joy would reign and songbirds would sing!
We need to start a movement (the pun was purely unintentional) to make chaos and clutter fashionable.