There's something about when the thermometer creeps up above 60 that makes us turn into "doers" more than "sitters," especially here in the great tundra.
This winter, even the die hard Minnesotans were bitching about the snow and cold. It was THAT bad.
So this past weekend, I did the mother of all spring cleaning jobs.
My apartment had become pretty much a cross between a science experience gone bad and a broken beer bottle shank factory.
Throw in a few mystery spills here and there, and well you get the picture.
I'm lucky, because I happen to have a Lady Friend® who is down with OCD. And she was visiting this weekend.
Within a day of some pretty hard work, my place is renewed. Refreshed. I'm sore, tired, and still a little embarrassed to have let my Lady Friend® see my Mancave™, and by Mancave™ I mean more cave, and less man.
But Lady Friend® didn't bat an eye. She was like Patton if he had faced the battle of "WhyTheHellIsThisLayingHere?"
But truth be told, just as letting go of our mental clutter cleans our soul, so does throwing out a Shit-Ton™ of garbage and old clothes that didn't fit anyone in the house, other than the cat who made them into her own personal tunneling system over the last few months.
And so I share with you my "after" pics of my humble abode. Think of it as the "Prisoner in the Tundra" episode of MTV Cribs. Minus the fancy furniture, exotic artwork, or fancy ass volcano pool in the backyard.
May your spring cleaning include falling asleep on crisp and clean sheets when you are done. Goodnight. And thank you, Lady Friend®!