My mom told me to clean my room 40 years ago.
I was thinking about getting around to it today.
You guys, I have never, ever in 53 years not had a messy bedroom.
Honestly, it’s not just my bedroom. I am not a total slacker, but my housekeeping skills probably fall just below average on a housekeeping skills chart I made up.
My mother’s birthday is today and I thought I’d honor her request as a birthday tribute and clean my room. Besides, Randy’s still out of town. I thought I might as well.
Turns out, I should have caved in to my slovenly ways.
As is often the case, I serve as a cautionary tale.
I hurt myself so that you don’t have to.
I apparently have built in booby traps in my bedroom. I am not suggesting you have booby traps in your house, but I’m sure there is something in your house that can hurt you. It’s possible cleaning will increase your odds of getting hurt by the seemingly innocent but ultimately malevolent things in your house. Don’t risk it. Trust me.
Okay, this is what happened.
We have this tall, cheap, broke-ass television stand in the corner of our room. The TV sits on top instead of in the TV spot. We want the TV up high as to enhance our viewing pleasure while being slugs in bed. Which is an awesome plan because we excel at being slugs.
Anyway, the broke ass TV stand tends to be the upstairs version of our kitchen table. It’s the gathering place for that unimportant weird ass junk you can’t seem to throw away. And mail. Well, on the kitchen table, it’s mail. The TV stand is books. It also has receipts, story ideas, and bits and scraps of things which might have been important at one time, but since lost their value. Most likely, it was junk in the first place. This debris sometimes escapes the confines of the TV stand, but doesn’t make it far and orbits around the edges.
Side note: If you don’t like housework and also have a kitten, the kitten is not going to help when you try to pick up little pieces of things. He will want to torture and conquer each piece of paper.
The kitten was not the danger, though.
A large mirrored desk sits next to the TV stand. It is old and covered in makeup I mostly don’t wear. Well, that and lotions, hairspray, and hair ties I can never find when I need them.
This dresser, desk thingy is old and the wooden board behind the mirror has since slanted to the left and peeks out from behind the mirror. This board seemed innocent enough, until I stuck my hand out to steady myself and nicked my hand on the sharp screws.
Fuckity fuck. Wait. When was my last tetanus shot? Oh, yeah. October. We’re good.
I cleaned up around the TV stand and was careful to avoid the board. When I stood up, I used used the wall to steady myself.
Goddammit. Fuck. OW. What the fucking shit is that?
I used to have these little hook things hanging on my wall to hold jewelry. I took them down a year ago, but I didn’t remove the the nails from the wall. I found them when I stood up.
I’m looking at that TV stand as I type this. I know I spent a lot of time tidying it up. I put my actual blood in my effort. It doesn’t look much different.
I’m going to attempt putting away laundry now.
I have no idea how my clothes plan to maim me.