Freshy.

This was my Me Only Room.

It was a dark dingy disturbing place crammed chockablock full of books and notes and pictures and work stuff and post ideas and crap. Every horizontal surface had stuff on it that you had to move to get to the stuff underneath which was usually stuff that I had forgotten about because it had been buried for so long.

I’m not sure how it got this way, but the worse it became the more it resisted cleaning and straightening and the more I dreaded even touching it.

It was easier just to close the door.

But then, this past weekend, inspired by Miss Carol’s burst of housecleaning energy (she had to-we hosted an impromptu New Years Eve party) I decided enough was enough and waded in.

Armed with a six-pack and a Lethal Weapon marathon on Spike TV (who knew there were 4 of them?) I spent an epic day cleaning and sanding and varnishing and filing and did I mention cleaning?

When I finally staggered out, buzzing a little bit and a little bit tired of Mel Gibson and Danny Glover, my Me Only Room had been transformed.

It’s still full of crap, but it’s clean, good-smelling, put-away crap.

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