I cleaned my room today. Okay, I cleaned two of the hundreds of shelves in my room. My brother was complaining about having to clean the floor in my room because there was a table and a chair and a pack of tissue on the the floor, to which I got annoyed and told him he didn't have to clean my room at all then. Now, I have to do it.
Everything is dusty and dirty and messy. When I wiped the shelves today, I finally had the sense to put my little things like hair accessories and make up into boxes so that things wouldn't be all over the place and cleaning would be way way way easier (I hope). I called my mummy because I was so excited and I told her all about the boxes on my shelves and how now, my shelves looks so empty, all the little things put together into one box each. And how boxed up my room looks now because well, I have two boxes of beanies, a big box of I-don't-know-whats and a box slash stool in my room. I have a box room. Still, having my window face the road is not a good thing at all. I clean my room, wipe everything clean, get a crazy flu, sweat bullets, have my hair stuck on my face mouth nose hand feet and then feel so happy about myself, for what?
Because anyway, after five seconds flat, my room will once again be dusty and dirty and messy.
Sigh.
Life.
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