Bouncy, Bouncy

I’ve realized in recent … months … that my personal happiness is closely related to the relative cleanliness of my house. There’s nothing worse waking up a little on the down side and seeing your disastrous looking house and thinking, “Great when I want to lie in bed all day I realize that I really should be cleaning up.” There’s nothing like ruining a good veg session with a healthy helping of guilt.
In the interest of Bourbon and mine’s personal hygiene and health I decided to get up this morning and get a really good cleaning in before my beg session. Tomorrow I start another study which usually results in considerable laziness in the evenings, which does not encourage nightly cleaning. Therefore, I bathed the dog (no use having a clean house with a dirty pup) and cleaned out my water filter. The kitchen is considerably … disgusting … but actually the bathroom is much worse (toilet gave out on me).

In tackling the kitchen I noticed that the defunct wood stove was particularly cluttered and maybe I should clean off some off the bottles and crap to make the room look more feng shui … It was there that I found a long forgotten pile of zip lock bags that I intended to clean and instead let rot on top of the stove. No, seriously. Upon viewing and removing said pile of bags (with mountains of mold) I realized that:

A) I am going to die because of how old and dirty this house is (I’ve been watching episodes of House and I just pictures mold spores flying through my nasal passages, latching onto my brain and in a few days I will be completely incapacitated – dramatic right?)

B) When people enter my house hopefully to feed Bourbon and retrieve valued items they will realize that I lived in fact, like a bachelor, and had a relatively non-existent cleaning ritual. That is embarrassing.

So here I am cleaning my house (or actually taking a break to write a blog) and I already feel the happy hormones flooding my brain. Bourbon seems happy (despite the bath) and I’ve taken a couple breaks to play with our new toys. Yes, he’s such a goof and I enjoy playing with him so much that they’ve become my toys too. On that note, if I ever hope to get this done, I should go back. More to come on the Bouncy, Bouncy part.
…. I’ve hit a new low … There’s a giant arachnid in my fridge. Ohhhh disappointment.
Well the spider had expired, but I was afraid when I flicked it out of the fridge it would thaw and become alive again. Didn’t happen. So gross. Accidentally tossed the spider stick into my clean sheets hanging on the line too. Just can’t win. How do these things happen?