April 1 — Deep clean

I’m so ashamed of how long it’s been since I’ve done a deep clean of my bathroom that I refuse to specify online. It needed one, so I decided to put my Friday night to good use.

Vent on. Rags out. Spray spray spray. Soon my shoulders start to ache. Judge John Hodgman keeps me entertained.

It’s funny how a task that was once loathsome to me as a child becomes a satisfying exercise as an adult. I’m sure some psychologist or someone has come up with categories of personality types that delight in bringing order to chaos, in restoring decay and uncovering what was once pristine. I don’t put much stock in these psychological profiles, but I’d like to think such an impulse is part of the lifeblood of human nature. For some of us it lies latent, perhaps, but when chance or obligation foists cleanliness on a man like me, he never rues it.

Cleaning bathrooms is God’s work. Some southern housewife somewhere at some point in time has probably said that. If so, she was right.