There won’t be a real blog post today–I’m spring cleaning.
Yesterday, my best friend told me that I’m the only person she knows who still does a full-scale, top-to-bottom spring cleaning. Maybe she’s right, but for me it is as close as I get to performing a religious ritual.
Part of it is rooted in religion: spring is the Passover season, and generations of Jewish women have internalized the yearly search for “chometz”–i.e. yeast–during which they scrubbed the premises not only of the forbidden breadcrumbs, but for dirt of any kind.
But for me, the satisfaction I get from ensuring that my closets and drawers are tidy, my baseboards dust-free and my windows washed is in direct contrast to the degree to which I am unable to control anything else.
I may not be able to stem the recent tide of anti-woman rhetoric. I may not be able to wave a wand and achieve equal civil rights for GLBT folks. I obviously can’t control the public’s tendency to vote for reality-challenged politicians. Hell, I can’t even control my weight.
But dammit, one thing I can control is how clean my closets are!
See you tomorrow.
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