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October 30, 2015

Clean Like a Freak

Sophie tells me that I must enjoy cleaning, otherwise I wouldn’t do it.

She ignores me when I tell her this is not true.

I clean because the alternative is infuriating. I can’t live like a hog. I can’t think. When I sit down to read or write all and all I can see is dirt or dust or a plate or a cup or a stain or fluff – I get restless. It makes me hot.

I try to man up and ignore it, but, it wins. For fuck sake, it wins.

I am not a good cleaner, but I am efficient.

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