...spiders and cockroaches, that is.
Yes, proven and tested. Just this morning, I spritzed old-age rhum all over them until a shaky, trembling motion of their feet signaled bitter defeat. It was a success. I killed them.
Now you might wonder what has encouraged circumstance that I came across another close encounter with these loathsome creatures. Who doesn't really have an experience to share? Every living teenager cast away from all posh and plush environment for an average of three weeks would have close encounters with insects, bugs, spiders, and all them icky creatures of this world, most especially if you're now considered a certified jailbird at home. With an everyday routine of breakfast in bed, lunch meal on top of my desk, and dinner on my lap while in front of the television screen, what else is there to wonder why creatures like these find peace and prosperity inside my small abode. In fact, I'm surprised I haven't seen rats come along.
As I stretched my legs after a tiresome contend with the pests, I realized I woke up in a mess. My room, indeed, looks like I cartwheeled all over the place, pulled off my entire closet for a run-through check of my garments, or had Oscar the Grouch and a giant lot of his posse occupy my entire room space for a day. It was complete disaster. Maybe that's why I don't feel like sleeping in my room for the past few days.
Since my mom has always nagged me about not-being-so-resposnsible-for-always-leaving-my-room-in-a-mess, I finally decided to grip my fingers on the broom. Besides, I think I shall take hold of this one now. I owe it to our househelpers all these years and I'm sure they deserve a break from this. So there I went sweeping my entire room, folding and hanging clothes in my closet, and spritzing sanitizer all over the corners. It was a relief. I always frowned upon dirt but I always cried about having to clean up a mess. I'm not really a fan of getting down there and having to stretch down the floor to sweep, because I thought it would be too exhausting. Well actually, it was, but I had fun. I guess that's what really counts.
I know it's quite stupid to write something so long about cleaning up your own mess in your own room, and I'm not really making this a big deal. I don't know, it just sounds fulfilling to me. Maybe because it's another step for me that opens me up to responsibility. Don't get me wrong though, this is not the first time I did a house chore. I tried all of them already - cleaning up, washing dishes, ironing clothes, all sorts! It's fun, it's tiresome, sometimes even messy, but I just love the feeling it gives me.
I think this is something really therapeutic for me - getting up, stretching down, doing something you could have asked somebody else to do but you did it all by yourself instead. I love it. It's a fun and productive way of killing time and working out. It could also double as an exercise routine! Maybe I'll be doing this again for the following days. Besides, nothing ever beats the feeling of seeing icky creatures spaz out on their feet and freeze until they die. ;)
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