the cheese stands alone

Socked In, Spiritually

There is a vast misconception going around about me. Those of you who actually know me (all three of you) think I am A Fantastic Housekeeper. That you can eat dinner off my floors and have to wear sunglasses to pee because my toilet fixtures are just that damn polished.
I'm sorry.
You are all laboring under what is known in the trade as A Misapprehension.
I am not A Fantastic Housekeeper. I am not even A Good Tidier.
What I am, is slow but unstoppable. Like the mighty Mississippi, I just keep on keeping on, albeit without all those floods and pesky double consonants.
This could be mistaken for laziness in some circles, the way I clean house. Let me assure you, gentle (3) readers, it is not.
It is kindness and consideration.
Granted, it is kindness and consideration toward inanimate objects, but every journey starts with a small step and perhaps some day I'll progress to the spiritual level where I think of, say, my coworkers, in as kindly and considerate terms as I do my dirty socks.
Unlikely, but you never know, right?
Speaking of socks, let's examine why my approach to housekeeping is one of delicacy and tact. Let's say you are a sock, lying happily where you have been stripped off, on the kitchen floor. The Hand swoops down from the heavens, picks you up, and carefully deposits you three feet closer to the bedroom laundry hamper. After you've acclimated to your new surroundings, once more The Hand descends, attains, and gently deposits, again a tad nearer the legendary BLH, where all Good Socks go when they're removed. After several days of travel, you arrive at the BLH, and meet your friends, all of you soon to go to that Big Washing Machine in the sky.
Now, isn't this much less stressful on a poor hosery element than to be rudely grabbed up and dumped unceremoniously into a dark, smelly container? Although for some (Mr. Thong, I'm talking about you) it's not so much of a difference. But I digress...
We're talking avoiding systemic shock, people. We're talking a Kinder and Gentler tidying regime. We're talking Cleaning Outside the Box.
We're talking shite, yes, but remember, it's me.
I am the tectonic plates of housekeeping.
I am not ashamed.