Tidiness


In which Mike is bemused by notions of tidiness and filth.

This evening I tidied. This put me in mind of a number of puzzling things, but particularly some questions like: why can dust get into my lovely clean white Apple keyboard, and Can Anything Be Done about it?, why is it better to have hidden, inaccessible and obscured important things than it is to have a convenient, exposed pile of them?, why does anyone bother with wardrobes? and finally Why have all my suits got dusty shoulders and old post-it notes stuck to them?

If you haven't already, I urge you to read the letters page of the current Private Eye, as it's one of the (relatively few) things of late to make me laugh out loud for a long time in an inappropriate venue. I've missed being eyeballed by the Proud Normal.

Now I have cleaned my room I keep looking round for tumbleweed. It's as though it's died, and someone has been industriously making it shiny and polished and bouffant and eventually utterly unlike it ever was in life. All the character seems to have drained out of it. But I can find my socks, so maybe all is not Lost.

The brain is meandering because I can't decide what to do about tomorrow morning. As neither the charming L nor the equally charming H is able to offer me a lift to work to-morrow, I face my worst nightmare: a journey on the bus with a certain Mr. Public with whom I have not for some little while forcibly spent time. I suspect this is my punishment for the too, too divine week-and-a-bit I've had of late, in which I have been to see a moving picture with Miss A, slept perilously close to Ms. P, exposed my fishnet covered legs to Ms. R, and accused her beloved of looking like Kevin Keegan. What more could a fellow ask of life? So, should I rise earlier than normal and hope to make it in before traffic becomes illegally awful, or should I lie in bed a-dozing and get in late? The answer, inevitably, is that I shall get up earlier, which means I have to go and do some work now or else I shall be further behind than I can ever to recover from.

Bonne nuit!

Posted: Mon - November 3, 2003 at 09:35 PM      


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