it's amazing how much work cleaning my room can be, every time. and how after spending all day on it, it's still not clean. am i the only one who struggles with this? it's amazing, the little piles of receipts and coins and feathers and screws and nails and twist ties, flotsam that collects and collects on the sills and nightstand and begs to be sorted. and it's amazing how socks can sneak into the corners behind shelves or shoes, disappearing to keep the dustbunnies quiet company for months on end. and it's quite remarkable, when doing laundry, the treasures i find in pockets, and the quantity of sawdust i find in the cuffs of james' jeans. this cleaning, it could be a full time job if i let it. but it's worth the work when i've got the time. so today, after taming my explosive clothing collection and vacuuming the shit outta stuff, my bedroom looks a little less like a hasty eviction or an episode of hoarders. and after changing the sheets, i know tonight i will slip slide into the clean bright fresh smelling bed, and i won't be inhaling cat hair or smelling old smells or feeling bits of sand collected from socks or between the toes. i'll probably sleep more soundly, and dream better dreams. ahh. just what the doctor ordered.