8. Think of the last time you cleaned house. Describe what you did and how you felt.
I was about to have my friends over, and I looked at the mess in my home and felt really ashamed. I spent the next three hours cleaning. I picked up all the clothes lying around and put them in the washer. The smell of the detergent was strong, almost anti-septic. With the washer whirring in the background, I moved to the dishes. I scrubbed the pots, the glasses, the spoons. The spoons with nutella on them were the hardest to scrub. My hands started to wrinkle but the dishes were not done. At this point, most of the time, I give up. But, I wanted to have clean dishes for my friends so I pushed through the misery and discomfort of dishwashing. Then, I wiped clean the countertops and the stove with a disinfectant. At this point, the house smelt like a hospital. Sterile. Next, I sorted through the millions of paper hand-outs from CalArts to figure out which one needed to be in recycling. One vicious handout gave me a paper-cut. I bled but I did not give up. I cleared my desk and then moved on to make my bed. Just then, Bernadette arrived, and the first thing she said when she entered my space was how it smelt of America.
Arpita
California, USA