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I just stopped briefly from working on my latest novel’s manuscript for a comfort break, a cigarette and something to drink while I wait for my grocery delivery. While I was waiting I became aware of the inordinate amount of dust on the floor around my chair, illuminated by the rays of the morning sun.
We all live with dust. It’s inescapable. What purpose does it actually serve? Millions across the world wage war against it on a daily basis. Why? The minute your back is turned there it is once again!
I surrendered to the ever present dust invasion decades ago, deciding that fighting it was a futile occupation and a monumental waste of my time. Instead I simply resorted to putting up with it as an inevitable consequence of daily living, looking upon it as a constant companion.
I’m darned sure dust was actually invented by the manufacturers of vacuum cleaners and the countless household cleaning products, merely to foist their wares upon the unsuspecting, brainwashed and gullible.
Unlike the countless millions of house-proud individuals out there, I no longer carry on the endless fight against dust. Instead I have called a truce with dust, choosing to coexist alongside it. Dust isn’t so bad. At least it doesn’t interfere with my daily life too much. Granted when it combines with fluff and hair into furry balls, usually under an item of furniture, I do pick it up and put it in the bin. I’ve got far more important things to occupy my time than to endlessly fight on the front lines of the war against dust.
Am I house proud – don’t be stupid. To me a house is nothing more than a box in which you live, protected from the elements and from unwanted undesirables like travelling salesmen, those collecting for various charities, god botherers and potential candidates for your next town council election, or even worse, that of your next government!
I am about to make all house proud individuals very angry with me, but I don’t care. If I’m brutally honest I prefer to see dust on every surface. To me it proves that this house is lived in by a human being (me) who doesn’t give a damn about mindless social expectations. I’m sorry if this offends you, but my home is not a sterile pristine space to show off to the neighbours while having morning or afternoon tea together – not that I do, you understand. As far as I know, no one actually lives in a show-home. They are only to be found at open days on new housing developments. This dusty house is where I live for goodness sake – get over it!
I can just hear all the tut-tutting going on as you read this folks. Well tough, I don’t care!
Neither does the dust I might add.
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