Now there's 10 minutes worth of vacuuming to be done and I'm on a bit of a roll, I think I might manage to get to it today. I've already:
- Made the Bed
- Washed the Dishes
- Started the laundry
- Scooped the kitty litter
And so the vacuuming, it should get done. I've agonized over it for several weeks, the carpet getting worse and worse in the meantime, going from a cream color to the putrid orange of a certain cat, I've watched it, restless, from the sofa thinking to myself that if only I could just vacuum I would be able to move on to unpacking the office, cleaning the kitchen, sweeping the entry way...
If only.
I've wondered what's so tough about this, that I need spend countless hours avoiding something that would take me all of 10 minutes to do, avoiding something that would allow me to breathe easier, move forward with my new clean life in the New Year, I've analyzed myself and thought that it must be a mental illness, something rare and undiagnosed and probably incurable, I've shaded my eyes as I walk up the stairs so I wouldn't see the wool-nuts and lint caught in the carpet, wondered at the issues that would allow me to live with, live in, however uncomfortably, such a mess, I've thought back to my childhood and tried to identify the underlying issues that must have led to this, the hopelessly dirty carpet.
And I think that maybe I'm over intellectualizing things and maybe I should just vacuum.
And finally I did. It took ten minutes. Now I have to unpack the office.