I shall take a break from the cat posts and think for a moment about living alone. Observations, neither good nor bad.

1. The toilet doors are never closed. (I also do not have guests.)

2. Naked Youtube pilates. Sweating grossly all over gym mat. Thinking about washing gym mat. Not washing gym mat.

3. Enthusiastic bodily excavations. Farting, nose-digging, armpit-scratching, shin hair-pulling.

4. Shit takes awhile to get done, because I am fantastic at wallowing in my own filth.

5. Complicated desk arrangements of laptop stacked on 3 books, 2 piles of unopened letters, semi-functioning pens in improvised pen-holder, coffee mug placed on electricity bill as coaster. My desk looks like a pretentious art project.

6. The couch is my bed. The floor is my bed. The dining room table is my bed. My bed is where I put unfolded laundry.

7. There are just so many cables everywhere.

8. Happiness = finding a snack you’d forgotten in the fridge.

9. The monthly meltdown, which is that one day I look around wildly and head-scream “I LIVE IN A PIG STY!!” and clean and clear everything up in a sweating 6-hour frenzy. After that I tell myself I WILL CLEAN REGULARLY GODDAMMIT. The next time I clean is 1 month later.

10. My toothbrush and toothpaste are next to my wine bottles in the kitchen.

Bonus: the piece could have been subtitled – “The Gradual, Inexorable Lowering of Standards.”


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