EVERY SUNDAY SINCE I was twelve years old, I've always done all of my cleaning and this Sunday was no different. I scrubbed the toilet and the sink, cleaned the bathtub and the shower walls. I changed the shower curtain and tossed the one I had been using, making a quick note to head to the Walmart in the next town over to get a new one. I shampooed the carpet in my bedroom and then vacuumed, I cleaned my kitchen, scrubbing the floors down until they were spotless and I could practically see my own reflection. I cleaned the windows and my screen door, I dusted off my TV and my mirrors. Basically, I kept myself busy.
It was a welcome distraction from where my mind had been lately. In these past couple of days alone, I've been far more confused than I have ever been in all of my two decades
