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Cleaning

My room is a pit. I haven't cleaned it in at least two years and it's at the point of zero floor-space. Oh, and the landlord is coming with MassPort people on Thursday to check our windows, which might get replaced to reduce the noise of living in a flight path (not that it bothered me the past five years.) So I need to clean, or at least shovel a path to the windows.

I spent almost an hour today mucking out the room, folding clothes, piling up books, throwing out crap with ruthless abandon (why did I keep the cardboard inserts from panyhose packages? tell me). It's nowhere near done. I filled one giant bag and threw that out, but need to really get down to it tomorrow. I just can't face any more of it today.

I know that two days is not going to get it really clean, but it will be a start. If I an resolve to spend one hour, once or twice a week working on the room and the closets (you don't even want to know about the closets), maybe I can get it somewhat presentable for when The Doc comes to visit.

Unfortunately, I've discovered that my apathy and tendency to procrastinate has gotten to the point where if I'm going to get anything done, I pretty much need to be told to do it. Fuck. This may be one more thing I ask The Doc to hound me about.

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