cleaning.

Finally, you've found the cutest little place to stay. It's not perfect, but it's modern enough. It's clean, quiet and pretty in all the right ways.

But first you've got to get your old place cleaned. One of those things you just have to do.

So you walk into your bathroom to brave the monster you've got to tackle.

You start scrubbing. First the sink, that's the easiest one, it's not too dirty, it's the easiest to main, no scary monsters here, just a few little ones. In no time it's clean and nearly spotless.

Beautiful.

Then you start scrubbing the toilet, it's dirty, it's gross, but it's essential. It doesn't hurt too much, not too much bleach not too much scrubbing and it's as good as new.

Beautiful.

Finally you see the tub, it's HUGE. It's a monster and is it's going to be one hell of a monster to tackle. Tiles first. You scrub and you scrub. Harder and harder. Finally your fingers hurt, your arms are sore, and the bleach has burned holes in your gloves. You need new ones. More resistant ones. What you see...is something you haven't seen before. You never knew what the real color of the tiles were, nor did you ever notice the patterns. You find yourself captivated. You never noticed the intricate designs on these tiles. They're amazing. And you've never taken notice. Not once, not ever, since you started living here. You were too busy trying to get in and out to realize what you were missing.


It wasn't what you thought you wanted. You thought that it wasn't modern enough, it wasn't pleasing to the eye. You failed to notice that when the beauty of modernity fades, it becomes nothing more than something to be replaced.

Yet here, you see ageless beauty, you see something that only becomes more amazing with time. It's breathtaking.

One by one, the tiles take you to a part of yourself, you never let yourself see. Parts you hid, in shame, in denial, in failure to want to see.

Finally you finish. You take a minute to breathe it all in. It's overwhelming and it's crushing. But it is what it is.

There's more. The floors, The tub. You've only finished the tiles. It's not over yet.

So you keep cleaning.

Yet, as you clean inside you feel a bit of melancholy. In your desperation to escape, you failed to notice beauty. But it's too late now. It's not your bathroom anymore.

But you wish that it were.