Dust

I'm amazed. I tried to set aside a little extra time tonight to the ongoing struggle of me versus my bedroom, and now that things are a tad more squared away and in order, I have noticed something: apparently I let off more dust than the average bear.

Inspired by last night's posting, I picked up my busted up old acoustic which I just have sitting out on a stand all the time, and I tell you this - it looked like my black shirt suddenly was cursed with bleach stains from all the dust that had accumulated (and then put itself on my shirt). So I started looking around, and my god. It's disgusting. Nothing negligent, not dust bunnies or anything, and I'm pretty darn vigilant about vacuuming and all that, but apparently I'm fighting the losing fight here.

But what gives? I have one small room. I am one single person. None of the windows open, so it's not like anything blows in here -- can one person really create this much dust? I don't even spend all that much time in here (though during that whole "thesis writing" thing, I did spend a little bit more time than usual burning the old midnight oil) but really, dust? You're going to play me like that? Coming up in my humble abode and just settling in like you own the joint?

I will leave you with the following words of wisdom, spoken by the character Mark from SLC Punk: "The earth has no way to clean itself. That is why there is so much dust." Paging science: get on that one, please.