I’m sitting in my (now old) West LA apartment at about 11:43pm. My eyes hurt, I don’t feel like watching TV, and I don’t feel like reading either. I spent most of the day cleaning my new apartment. I go a little overboard when I clean. Yes, if there were a “Scrubaholics Anonymous” meeting, I would be there. My tools of the trade involved a sponge (classic!), red bucket, bathroom cleaner, COMET, a grout brush, and a toothbrush. Oh, and a different sponge, paper towels, and glass cleaner for the mirrors. With Rise Against, The Sounds, and Bayside blaring, I scrubbed, scraped, disinfected, and cleaned like a professional. Simultaneously frustrated that the previous inhabitant was so dirty, but secretly delighted that I would have any opportunity, to well, shine, three hours passed by and there was now a sparkling bathroom where grunge and mildew had once lived. A glorious victory.

Personal