as i finished up the last of my packing/cleaning/packing/cleaning/moving epic marathon this weekend, the possibility of this post kept me going. so, without further ado, here’s a snapshot into my otherwise-housekeepingly challenged brain:
if my apartment was a military mission, it would be: desert dust storm
if my apartment was a color, it would be: dusty rose
if my apartment was a browning sonnet, it would be titled: how do i dust thee?
if my apartment was a famous quote, it would be: i dust, therefore i am (barely)
if my apartment was a line from a shakespearean play, it would be: out, damn spot!
if my apartment was a sporting event, it would be: the dust bowl
if my apartment was an emotion, it would be: all choked up
if my apartment was a restaurant, it would be: the sneezecake factory
if my apartment was onomatopoetically penned, it would read: achoo!
if my apartment was a fictitious character out of children’s pseudo-religious lore, it would be: the dust bunny
if i am ever so unlucky as to have to move again — which i know will be in a year when i come back to my apartment — may i remember to hermetically seal everything and wear a face mask, dammit.
the moving chronicles, part 2 to soon follow… subtitle: learning to live together again, featuring my partner of nearly 20 years: philly.