Spring cleaning

I am cleaning today. It is spring cleaning, and yes, I know it is late summer. I don't think of myself as getting to it late, but rather, early. Sure, I haven't lived in this apartment very long, but I have two large dogs and one is a puppy. A big puppy. Regrette. Somebody suggested to me that she might be named ironically, which I think is ironic. I just think it's a beautiful name, if you want to know the truth.

I'm not sure I understand irony.

I should come up with a creative use for recycling dog hair. That would be something.

I was going to start a novel this morning, but instead I started spring cleaning. In July. It is almost August. I think of how this blog went from a small undertaking and became a big undertaking through slow accumulation. Think of it! I should spring clean the BetterButterBlog and get rid of all the silly posts that I dashed off when I couldn't think of anything to say. How many would be left?? Twenty?? Ha! And now I am cleaning, scrubbing coffee stains off the not-white-anymore countertops, re-organizing my Tupperware containers. Does it ever surprise you the amount of Tupperware you have in your home? Where did it come from? I guess Tupperware collects like my blog posts have collected. I don't know where they all came from, and some are better than others. Even the crappy small ones without lids seem like they might be useful someday, though. That seems right.

I have become good at throwing things away. That is a good skill to have. If I don't use something, I stick it on the curve on garbage night, and somebody makes it disappear. What a country! What a universe! What an existence!

What would Darwin have to say about Curt Jimenez? Maybe the Betterbutterblog is just a document for anthropologists in the far off future to look at and think about whether this Curt Jimenez specimen had anything to say about natural selection. Who knows, maybe I am the pinnacle of something! A Hegelian peak! Maybe my ancestors were all little blog posts on the way to a butter end!

Maybe I have been reading to much Vonnegut.

Now I am bathing the dogs. Regrette likes to roll in feces she finds lying around on our walks. Can you imagine what stage of evolution dogs and humans were at 1 million years ago?

Now I am washing and changing sheets. Cleaning my single window. Coaxing my self-cleaning oven into action. On my hands and knees, scrubbing the tile in my kitchenette. Poking at cobwebs with my broom. Feeling like Sisyphus again.

Can you imagine a time when the Novel was novel?