So lately I’ve been TiVoing a show on BBC America called “How Clean Is Your House?”. I greatly enjoy my BBC America and have been sucked into it for hours at a time watching “Cash in the Attic,” “Hex,” “Robin Hood,” and “Changing Rooms,” among other things, but this show is different. Rather than making me want to lounge around on the couch in my jim-jams, “How Clean Is Your House?” makes me feel the need to clean. A lot.

See, the basic premise is that two women, Kim and Aggie, are called into clean houses that people have let go past the point of no return. We are talking years of grime and crap here. And before they clean, Aggie takes swabs of the whole house so you know exactly what kind of bacteria these people have been living with. I have learned more about bacteria since I started watching this, and frankly, it’s horrifying. Your skin just crawls. And then you look around your house and start to wonder what bacteria are living with you. And then you must clean. Or I must, at any rate.

My place is generally pretty clean. Yeah, the cats tear fur out of each other and so I have to vacuum up the fur tumbleweeds every week. But aside from the office, there isn’t a lot of clutter, mostly because I don’t like looking at it (and that explains why the office is cluttered, since it is out of sight.). But, do I dust? Um, not so much. I use my Swiffer wet jet on the kitchen and bathroom floors, but I know that’s not deep cleaning them because the floors are old and dirt gets trapped in the crevices. And so last night, I went on a cleaning tear. I vacuumed. I dusted and polished the coffee table and cleaned out all the things that have been collecting there. I dusted the end tables. I scrubbed the toilet and bathroom sink (Kim has given me nightmares about things that lurk under the rims of toilets and I couldn’t rest until I’d cleaned mine). I cleaned out the toaster oven. And then, the piece de resistance, I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed the kitchen floor. With a brush and some OxiClean. I couldn’t let it soak for as long as the can recommended because Freddie was way too intrigued by the whole process and I was afraid he would play in the water and then lick it off of himself and get good and ill, but it still got a fair amount of grime up. And when I went to sleep, my muscles ached. And I had nightmares about the crusty stuff in the microwave that I hadn’t cleaned. Guess what I’ll be cleaning tonight?

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