Sunday, August 10, 2003
(6:06 PM) | Adam Kotsko:
A clean, well-lighted place
This afternoon, following church, I set about radically remaking our home. I went grocery shopping, focussing on unhealthy food that can be prepared in minutes, and then began the long, hard task of cleaning the house. Several things have been neglected of late, since I am usually the only person to do any cleaning and have done an increasingly half-assed job over the last several weeks. I dusted. I picked up all of our fashionable clutter off the shelves and dusted underneath. I rearranged furniture, fully integrating the bed that we were using as a makeshift couch. I found cat toys that I had forgotten even existed. Jack (Brett and Tara's small cat who thinks he's a dog) helped in a variety of ways.
Also, when everyone is gone, the world gets a preview of what it would be like if I lived alone. The first point is that I opt for open windows and no airconditioning, unless the heat is truly life-threatening. Stuff is cleared off the kitchen table, unless I am in the middle of reading it. The blinds are up, opened to the world. The dishes are put straight into the dishwasher. If I spill something on the counter, it is wiped up right then. Any cats in my path are given a swift kick into the wall. My e-mail is thoroughly checked. Background boredom slowly becomes overwhelming, and I cry myself to sleep. I start trying to think of a clever way to move to a big city that won't require me to pay more rent, find a new job, go through the trouble of looking for an apartment, and actually engage in the physically exhausting process of moving my stuff up there, and I throw up my hands in despair when a solution doesn't occur to me within ten seconds.
Then I start talking to the cats. Today I asked Soren how she would feel about getting a third cat for the house, and she got up and walked off. She seemed pretty upset.
