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On cleaning and clearing out the cobwebs.


Today was for cleaning. Tomorrow is for moving in. I never enjoyed cleaning when I was a kid because it was too boring and it was too much of a pointless (in my child brain) activity my mom made me do. Now, I find it to be both a chore and therapeutic, oscillating back and forth depending on my mood. When I need to do it and I don’t want to, it’s the worst. When I’m done with it, my life feels better. Easier to breathe. Oh, spotless kitchen sink, my dearest love.

I’m exhausted, but satisfied. The more time my roommates and I spent cleaning the house today, the more I started to feel genuinely excited about living there. My roommates mentioned the smell earlier—it’s an old, historic house, and Richmond’s humid summers seem to weed their way into the very walls of our home.

The process felt like making the house our own. Unlike the last move, which was chaotic, stressful, lonely, and left a scar on my heart, we have more people to help. We put in the work to take care of the house and hopefully, it will respond in kind. I hope we don’t find any more mold, though

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