Swiff

When I made the decision to move on Tuesday it basically came down to this: Do I move now in the spot of a person who canceled last minute? Or do I wait two weeks.

I am so glad that I decided to move then. I love my house, and just this morning I cleaned out the last of the boxes and odds and ends that were lying on the dining room floor waiting to be put away.

And then I swiffed the DR.

See, moving on Tuesday meant that we didn't have time to clean all the sawdust off of every surface that had collected after getting our floors re-finished over the weekend. This gave my husband no small panic attack.

"But we'll NEVER get it clean if we unpack now!!" he moaned. "We'll be finding sawdust in our clothes 20 years from now!!"

Ah my dear OCD husband. Such was his angst over the sawdust that he was completely unable to function on Tuesday. He spent the entire afternoon cleaning one corner of the kitchen over and over again, and repeatedly misplacing the scissors.

I have to say that all appearances aside, I was minorly repulsed by the floor situation as well. I couldn't walk around barefoot without picking up a fine layer of sawdust, and I had to wipe off my feet before I got into bed.

It didn't help that the dust kept reminding me of my patient with nasopharynegeal cancer. I guess there's an association between that particular affliction and woodworking. Judging by the way in which the veneered dust clung to my nose and throat, making everything I ate taste like varnish, I can't say I'm especially surprised at the association.

But anyway, the house has been mostly swiffed. Thank god.