Life of Sweeping
My life is really not all bad. I have nothing worth complaining about. I wake up at a decent hour, do my daily stretching and body weight exercises, hit the shower, and finally I'm off to work. Nothing worth talking about when it comes to my work either. It's pretty methodical. I don't hate it, but I don't love it. It's just my source of income. I go in, put in my hours and every 24th of the month, I find myself richer than I was on the 23rd.
It's as reliable as my quartz wrist-watch. But, there are times when I will get paid late. Those are not-so-good days. I feel like I'll just as easily float up into space as much as I could fall flat on my face. I have to find some structure to hold on to. Not a wall or a desk, but something to tell me where I am in time. I quickly reach for my cellphone or the nearest calendar to make sure what day it is. Then, I call the accounting department of my work and ask if there was a delay in my payment. Only after I can confirm that there was indeed a delay in payment, can I relax. This happens a lot more than I want it to. You see, there are times when the 24th falls on a weekend or a holiday which causes the delay. I have to stress that it's not that I'm afraid of not getting paid, I'm more afraid of loosing when I am. It's more of a legitimate question than one would think.
For instance, if someone were to ask me right now 'where' I am, I will have absolutely no problem answering. "I'm at my desk, in my home, which is in the NW part of the city.".
But if someone were to ask me 'when" I am, meaning where I am in time, I would struggle to answer. "I'm in the year 2010?" or "I'm stuck in this Monday for next 18 hours, then I'll be in a Tuesday.". Regardless, that's why I don't like it when things don't happen when they're supposed to.
So my regular income keep me straight on when I am in the month. It's a good reminder. Everyone enjoys being paid. However, the event that keeps me grounded on when I am each day is not so great. Simply put, it's annoying.
I come home from work and cook a simple meal. One can not eat the same thing everyday ("a varied diet is a healthy diet" I read this somewhere and I can't abandon the idea) so this is not the event that tells me when I am that day. You can't keep track of something that keeps changing. After the meal, I do the dishes. Same as the meal, I have to use different types of tableware for each meal. Try eating soup out of a plate. Do you get what I mean? So the doing the dishes doesn't tell me a thing.
No, what tells me when I am in the day is sweeping. I sweep my hardwood floor and then go to bed. This marks the end of the day. It wouldn't be all that bad, but you could not imagine the amount of dust I sweep up. Almost the size of a golf ball of dust every single time. I sweep everyday and there is always this must dust. It confuses me a little but the consistency is comforting. You see, my room has just one large window and my front door. There are not many places where dust can enter and it's not like I work in a factory that makes dust or anything. I come home almost as clean as I was after taking a shower in the morning. Anyway, time to do my daily stretching and body weight exercises. I wouldn't want to get lost today and not know when I am.
*****
I didn't have a choice when it came to what I wanted to be when I grew up. My father was a dust bunny, and so was his father, and so was his father. We're a strong line of dust bunnies. So like I said the dust runs so strong in my veins that I couldn't help be become a great dust bunny. So as soon as I was able to, I left my father's place and went to look for a place of my own. It didn't take long for me to find this amazing place. It's not too big. It has one door and just one large window. And my human roommate is so easy to get along with. In fact, he makes my life incredibly easy. He wakes up everyday at the same time, does his exercises, showers, and leaves for work. While he is gone, I do my duty of spreading my dust around the place. It's all hardwood so it's quite fun to just slide around throwing dust.
I'm like a freaking' ice skater! "Triple axial! Oh, what a great spread of dust even with that high degree of difficulty move! He truly is the descendant of that dust bunny! ", I say while pretending to be an announcer. When it's time for my roommate to come home, I'm pooped from all the dust throwing. So I take a nap in the corner. He'll cook and eat his dinner and, this is the best part of all, he'll sweep up all the dust that I just flung neatly into a ball and place it in a small waste basket. So the next day, when he leaves, all I have to do is reach in and grab that ball of dust and just spread it again! I'm going to live a long time doing this! I don't need to make any more dust than I have to! Just re-use what I used the day before and the day before that. Seriously, a dust bunny couldn't ask for a better life. At this rate, I'm not going to have any problem finding me a hot mrs. dust bunny. Hot damn, I can't help but rolling around with delight.
