Monday, January 23, 2006
dust in the wind
Elizabeth and I were chatting recently about the somewhat ridiculous nature of apartment dust.
E: "As always, I am amazed by the incredible quantity of dust that my
apartment seems to create. I wonder if I actually make more by dusting
as often as I do ..."
L: "All apartments create dust. I'm convinced that apartment dust is actually making the universe heavier. It's INSANE."
E: "Why do I always manage to find so much random shit to clean in my apartment? I AM A CLEAN PERSON, DAMMIT."
L: "You are INSIDE. MY. HEAD. This is what I always think, particularly when I am down on my knees in what amounts to just-more-than-underwear, scrubbing my tub and wondering where the fuck all that dirt came from."
In all seriousness, I do find myself contemplating the origin of the dust that magically appears in my apartment. It covers all exposed surfaces no matter how often I dust and no matter what dust-repelling cleaning products I add to my arsenal.
It defies the Swiffer, wet or dry. It defies Pledge wipes and Endust spray. It defies vacuuming.
It defies the use of a humidifer. It even defies the damned Ionic Breeze Air Purifier.
And as I was vacuuming the bathroom -- the total floor surface area of which is approximately six square feet -- for the twelfth time in a week, it dawned on me that this, this was the battle. The easiest and best way to take us down. This is the battle that can never be won, but dammit, we'll die trying.
This is the way the world ends
Not with a rag but a duster.