Next to Godliness....
I finally did it. After a year and a half of taking up residence here at 2825-1 Austin Avenue, I finally cleaned my room. Oh, how I should have taken before and after pictures. It's a different room. It has a floor and space to walk around and my bed feels so much higher because there is no longer piles and piles of trash and clothes and boxes surrounding it. After my nap today I spent about thirty minutes sitting on my bed, admiring my work of art. I feel like a new man.
I knew I would. Blake used to tell me how good it makes you feel to come home to a clean room. That's why he used to sneak into my apartment in Feagin Hall and do a stealth cleaning mission. I appreciated it greatly. I sincerely did. But at the same time, I felt so dirty when it happened. I know that my friends know that I'm a slob, but when something happens to draw attention to my messiness, like a good cleaning, I feel about three feet tall. But at the same time, I felt like a king because he took the time to get knee deep into my mess, look around, and be able to say "I think I can do something with this." And he did. He made it disappear, knowing all along that it would reappear very soon.
That's the wonderful things about friends. After a time you pretty much get settled to the fact that people are going to do as people have done. Or to borrow an aphorism from good ol' Dr. Phil, "The best indicator of future behavior is past behavior." A good friend will walk beside you and choose to attempt to make something out of your mess, knowing full well that you will become messy again.
So here's to you Blake. Remind me to give you a key to my house when you move back to Texas in August. The mess will be waiting, and eager.
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