Dust

If you’re a fairly clean and organized person like I am, you probably understand my intolerable frustration with the bane of my existence. Dust. Yesterday my husband and I decided to rearrange our bedroom. Simple enough task, right? One would think. But alas, we spent way more time vacuuming, dusting, and washing our furniture than we did moving it. Where does it all come from? Atop my desk and dresser, under Zach’s computer cords, in the corners, on the wall behind the shelves, and don’t get me started on the drapes! Like I said, I consider myself to be clean, but the sights I saw yesterday were enough to send me to DFA (dirty freaks anonymous).

My biggest problem with dust is that it keeps coming back. Yeah, I understand dust piling up behind the large furniture I haven’t moved in a year, but I dust off my dresser every week! I hate looking at a beautifully cleaned table top knowing it will go back to its dusty dirty self in a matter of days. My solution? Stop buying black furniture. Someday when I get a new home and lots of money to furnish said home, I will buy only white things. You don’t notice dust accumulating as much, and even though I will still dust once a week, I won’t be bothered by its unsightliness. Problem solved … in 20 years.

I’m not sure what my point was exactly, except to say that if fewer things bother me at the moment than dust collecting on dark wood furniture, then I’ve probably got it pretty good. Thank God I have a roof over my head to keep the dust contained. Thank God I have furniture on which dust can rest. Thank God I have a wonderful husband who helps create dust with me. More importantly, thank God I have money to buy dusters, and electricity to use my vacuumed to suck up my dust.

See now, dust, you’re sort of growing on me … literally. ;)

Xoxo Liz