Mr. Clean
Sunday was one of those days.
Every few weeks I wake up in the morning with an unbridled, borderline manic need to clean. I have no idea what drives this behavioral anomoly, but sometimes the acrid odors of bleach, lime remover, and grout cleaner smell as sweet to me in the a.m. as cream, sugar and coffee. Bills, unreturned phone calls, and deadlines are the last thing on my mind. I am focused. Determined. Ready to raise hell.
My weapons? Zep commercial products. I have purchased from grocery stores my fair share of bathroom / kitchen cleaners, and they're all watered down Kool-Aid compared to Zep.
We're talking hospital grade products here. No lemon scent. No cute logos. No product design. I want raw, wild ass, burn-a-hole-in-your-ceramic-tub power. Zep delivers.
By evening my nose felt like it had been snorting coke for an hour. My eyes throbbed, hands tingled with expended energy. I felt vindicated, comfortable, and slightly stoned.
Looking back, perhaps the scrubbing, brushing and rinsing are an odd form of housekeeping yoga, for yesterday I woke to not only a thoroughly cleaned house, but renewed spirit. Cleaning is a boolean, dumb exercise that produces immediate, error free results - the opposite of the metaphor-laden world of graphic design and writing. There is, quite simply, no wrong or uninspired way to scrub a sink. Guaranteed satisfaction, every time.
Comments
I kinda like it when I use so much freakin' bleach cleaning the bathroom that the paint on the walls lightens a few shades, my nose bleeds a little bit, and I can feel and smell the cleaning power in my fingers for a good day and a half.
Posted by: tm at February 28, 2002 1:12 PM
