Zestfully clean

May 6, 2001

i’m sitting indian-style on hard wood, staring down at the keyboard that is resting on my lap. the floor is my desk. it’s also my bed, my dresser and my cabinets. this afternoon, after they left, i dumped my blankets and comforters on the floor and collapsed on top of them. the sun was shining through the blinds and beating down on my body, but i didn’t care. it had been too long since i’d actually seen real sunshine from inside my bedroom.

i haven’t unpacked much, but i’ve already used my first housewarming gift: a bottle of mr. bubbles. i soaked my sweaty, dirty, achey body in the soapy water and let everything dissolve away — my thoughts, my worries, my woes. everything spiraled down the drain when i emerged from the bath.


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