I’m getting clean. Wait. There’s gotta be a better way to start than that. I’m getting rid of the junk. Nope. That was worse. I’m cleaning up. As in: scrubbing, spraying, wiping, dusting, sweeping, vacuuming and dumping clutter in a big box and setting it on fire. Just kidding. I’m not doing that last one. That would be incredibly dangerous and irresponsible. It would also make a fantastic YouTube video, but I’m going to back-pocket that idea for a rainy day, like if I were to accidentally knock over a giant pyramid of pickle jars at Walmart and needed some quick cash to pay for the damages. For those of you wondering how I plan on making money with a YouTube video, get with the times. This is 2012, not 1897! Haha! Back to cleaning. To be honest, I kind of love it. Sure, Cleaning Up was at the very top of my childhood’s Do Not Fly List, but this is 2012, not 1989! Haha! Sorry. I have to stop doing that. I guess what I’m trying to say is as a toilet-trained adult human, I appreciate cleanliness. So much so that I actually enjoy being responsible for it. Amazing, right? One minute you’re crawling around your living room with a dirty diaper, the next you’re crawling around your living room with a dust buster. See what I did there? I used diapers and vacuums as metaphors for my own personal maturation. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to print this out and mail it to the nearest therapist for immediate analysis.