Maybe later, I'll go all out and clean the other half of my bathroom. My bathroom is quite odd. In the bathroom proper, I have a toilet and a bathtub. There is enough space between them for a litterbox, and not much else. In the hallway outside the bathroom, I have a sink, a cabinet, a few drawers, and a mirror. Usually, I look at the bathroom part, go "Aaaah!" and clean it. The domestic urge has usually left me before I manage to get around to straightening the sink part of it. Besides, my bathroom was disgusting. My sink area is merely cluttered.

Besides, if I start straightening my sink area, who knows where that will lead? There's been a growing stack of books by my bed for months, and another one on the endtable by the couch. The bookshelf and computer table and every other place one might reasonably expect to find books are covered in miscellaneous papers and stuff. Although the surface of my couch is clean, I am afraid of what I might find if I looked under the cushions. Hell, I might even go so far as to organize my cupboards or something.

Clutter doesn't bother me. I really don't know if I could handle living in a perfectly neat apartment. Filth gets to me though. So, I did the dishes, wiped the kitchen counters and stovetop, scrubbed the bathtub and toilet, used a knife to pry up the layer of cemented kitty litter that had fallen outside the bathtub and gotten wet and then dried there, washed the bathroom floor, vacuumed the whole place, and took the various rags and my living room throw rug down to the laundry room.

I used Formula 409 for almost all of it. God, that's amazing stuff. If you could have seen my bathtub before and after I sprayed the 409, waited 15 seconds, and wiped, you wouldn't believe it. I'm seriously thinking about sending the 409 people a thankyou letter. Well, no, I'm not. That would involve effort. Besides, I don't think I want them to know the depths of depravity my bathtub had sunk to. My bathroom was just plain disturbing. There was so much built up soap scum in my bathtub that it looked almost black in places. There was kitty litter all over the floor. I won't even describe my toilet.

But not anymore! My bathtub sparkles! I can see my face in the floor! My life begins today! My firstborn will be named 409 Ng.

I had been feeling like I really should clean my apartment for about a week. Last night, D. pulled out this letter from the building managers saying they would do a random inspection of some apartments Tuesday (tomorrow). D. said the letter had arrived last week. I'm actually glad he didn't remember right away though. If I had cleaned last week, there would be a whole new pile of dishes, and more kitty litter everywhere by now. This way, if they stop by, my apartment will actually still be relatively spotless.

Strangely, I think I still feel like cleaning. I'll tackle the bathroom sink area, fold the laundry, and clean the couch. I think that should be enough to cure me. I've never felt this hard-core domestic before. It's kind of scary.

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