'50s era house wife cleaning on methamphetamine

A new roommate has joined the ranks of 348 Mystic St AKA "The Alamo". After a summer of inattentiveness I looked around on move-in day to find a sight recognizable for a frat house; the ones without paddles and ascots. So tonight I have put all else out of mind, cued the obscure electronic music and sought out to rectify this mess.

It makes me think about those that look to cleaning as a source of comfort. Not sure if that is ocd or whatever but I can see the point. I look at my off-white linoleum kitchen floor and I see stains and dirt;the surface mocking my ability to maintain a concise lifestyle where I would periodically monitor and correct such transgressions as they appear. This however is not the case nor is it my modus operandi. Shock and Awe is the method I subscribe to. Let the Middle Eastern Angst build up to a boiling point and strike down with weapons of colossal destruction. My kitchen floor has had its fun and now it dosen`t stand a chance against this citrus based cleaning compound. I find comfort knowing that tonight I will turn the lights out on a sparkling floor. Though my idealistic side suggests that this time it will be different, this time i will utilize diplomacy, i will build schools and teach the floor how to keep itself clean so that such horrific janitorial displays will never be unleashed again, I know this is not to be we are too different.

The bathroom is no different. Tonight I have three different cleaners, probably identical but for their scent and sudsing action, and pretty soon I will ascend the stairs and it will hear me coming. It will quiver behind the shower curtain as I slowly remove every object not affixed to the floor and methodically erase the trace of human use with poisonous chemicals likely to make barren my once fertile plain as the fields of middle America In the Dust Bowl;

I feel I am channeling Tom Joad....

Whenever you see a dirty bathroom or a floor filmed with grime
wherever the dustbunnys roll and the toilets have lines
where the trashbarrel has been compressed one too many times;
look in the cleaning aisle Mom, You'll see me.........