Rebellious Elegance and Aggressive Domesticity

Let’s turn the music up and listen to Vivaldi in all his power! We’ll make the winter’s snows turn into blizzards, the spring crocuses will burst out of the ground with aggression instead of hope, screaming “I am here to reclaim the earth!” the summer will be oppressively hot, smothering us in humidity, and the autumn leaves will fall annoyingly into flower gardens where they must be picked out by hand. And the music will be so ear-splitting that we can still hear it as we use the whirring vacuum cleaner to suck dust out of the corners.

I’ll be an oxymoronic cleaner, both traditional and rebellious at once. We’ll have the elegance of the music at a rebellious volume, the domesticity of cleaning, without a sense of duty.

This house will be clean, every impurity banished, and every surface will shine. There will be a high price to pay for the first person to make a ring on the glass coffee table, create crumbs on the counter, or leave speckles of toothpaste on the sink. The cats will learn to keep all the litter in their box, and mud will get no further than the doormat. The weather won’t even dare to dirty the outside of the windows when it rains or when pollen blows through the air. There is order and power in this hand that holds a mop and bucket, and no one shall dare to defy me.

For I am the cleaning goddess and the bearer of deafening music.

As always, you can also find me on tumblr at, if, you know, you’re into that kind of thing.

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