Reclaiming: House, Temperature

In Possible Metaphor For Life news, I've discovered the only real way to deal with the heat (specifically: hot apartment) is to give in to it.

Put on the lightest clothes you own, put on some rubber flipflops and rubber gloves and SCRUB THE CRAP out of the bathroom. Really. Swiffer WetJet the mildew off the 10-foot ceiling while standing on the edge of the tub. That's right, up near the ceiling where the heat gathers. Take down the old shower curtain. Rub circles on the mirror while admiring your sweatstains. Take the rubber gloves off occasionally to rinse them out (from the pooling sweat). Sweat it up, drink some water and dive right in there with the Ajax Bleach.

Hey, while you're at it, do the kitchen too. Why not. Unplug the microwave, walk it over to the sink, scrub it. Ditto the blender base, the toaster. Yank the stove out from the wall and push it back and forth across the floor until all the dirt under it is accessible and therefore gone. Make a vinegar and baking sode concoction in the bottom of the garbage can. Pull the shelves and rug away from the wall, wash down the space where the wall meets the floor, where all the ants came from in the winter. Let it dry and then caulk the motherfucker until your wrist shakes from the exertion. Haul out bags and bags of food and whatever else your departed roommate left behind. Rejoice at the extra cabinet space. Let sweat run off your nose. Create a new world order of clean.

You'll be so busy feeling righteous, you won't feel tired. You'll be so knee-deep in dirt, you won't notice all the sweat. You'll be so fired up from the path of undirt you have blazed, the rays from the sun will feel tepid in comparison. Eschew A/C and gym memberships. You don't need them because you have a DIRTY HOUSE.