I got a Swiffer

My friends know me for being a fastidiously clean person. It’s habits passed down to me from my parents. They’re the type of people who would mop the floors nightly, and clean the kitchen stove after every dinner making. The house carpets would get vacuumed twice a week. I grew up in a clean home, so naturally then I carry those habits with me to my new place of abode.

Thankfully, it’s only a small in-law studio, so the physical surface area that needs to be clean is tiny. During the first month of living, I was content with spraying down the floors with all-purpose cleaner, then do a wipe with a towel (hardwood floors, obviously). The process takes about 10 minutes, not the most back-breaking of work. Once a week of this is enough to keep the place satisfactory clean to my high standards.

Last week I was suddenly inspired to get a Swiffer mop. A combination of both laziness and low entry price barrier impelled me to make the purchase. For only about 15 dollars, I got this plastic stick that cleaning pads clip onto at the base. This simple device cut down my cleaning time to mere minutes. The Swiffer saves me from having to bend down to the floor, and it picks up more dust than the old fashion method.

This goes to show that sometimes it’s worth paying for convenience. Whatever saves me time and energy from the mundane tasks is money well spent. I salute the person who invented the Swiffer system; I won’t clean hard floors without it ever again. The pad refills are economical enough, too. I am glad I made the switch.

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Autumn progression.

Minimalist versus the utilitarian

Back in my early twenties there was a time I was quite fascinated with minimalism. Growing up my family was decidedly poor so it wasn’t like I had a lot of stuff anyways, but the idea of having as little worldly possessions as possible appealed greatly to me then. Computer technology have allowed us to digitize practically everything; items that would otherwise take up massive amounts of space like books and CD collections can now all be stored on our devices.

The iconic image of Steve Jobs sitting in his living room with nothing but the bare essentials, an utter lack of furniture save for an extraordinarily ornate lamp. That picture was the primary inspiration back then for me to begin decluttering my life: physical books were tossed out in favor of digital, old CDs and cassettes got converted to MP3s (wish I had kept those, honestly), and reams of accumulated car magazines put into the recycling bin.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) it never got beyond that - I love material things far too much. The brief flirtation with minimalism was merely a motivation to basically clean up my room, which in hindsight I don’t suppose it’s a negative. Indeed I do tend to accumulate a myriad of items and knickknacks over time, figurines and ornaments that provide inspiration for my artistic endeavors. For example up on my shelves are a few vinyl albums on display, even though I don’t have a record player. Physical books, too, have returned in my favors in recent years, and those simply pile up after having read them, and aren’t likely to be read again.

A year ago I performed the KonMari Method of cleaning to all my belongings, and 10 full-size trash bags later my living space was renewed and refreshed. Fast-forward to the present and the accumulation creep has returned. I’ve done well to not purchase any new clothing, but the amount of books have increased exponentially, and various souvenirs from trips have materialized on the shelves. It’s all maintained neat and tidy, though from a perspective of utility it’s highly wanting.

Rather than minimalist, my philosophy when it comes to things material is centered on utility: does it serve a purpose, and will I use it regularly. That ethos helps greatly limit my frivolous spending, though conversely I use it somewhat dubiously as justification for always upgrading to the latest and greatest iPhone. It’s a device I most frequently use, therefore it’s worth the relatively extravagant sum to get it.

So with that in mind, can I then for example force myself to donate away books I’ve already read, instead of them lining up my shelves? After all their utilitarian purpose is served and gone, and the reclaimed space would be quite lovely.

That’s going to be tough.

All the curves at the all the right places.

I try KonMari method

I spent this past weekend cleaning out my room in accordance to the KonMari method. I tossed away anything that I haven't used in the past year, and for things of sentiment/ornament, I kept only those that "sparked joy." Following those restrictions led to quite the production, as I literally spent the entire Saturday sorting and collating, resulting in 10 trash-bag full of junk. My closet has never been so barren yet utterly organized. 

You know how you never realize how much stuff you've accumulated until you need to move? The KonMari method does the same thing, only this time instead of moving the stuff to a new place, much of the stuff is headed for the trash-bin. Of the 10 trash-bags I threw out, three was clothing, which is amazing because I've always thought I skew towards the frugal side when it comes to clothing allowances. Turns out even someone like me who seldom buy clothes can still end up with three bags worth of items not worn in the past 12 months. 

Packing for travel will be much easier, because nearly all the clothing I now own can fit inside the 29-inch roller bag. 

A room that's gone through the KonMari tidying method is absolutely transformative. When I woke up on Sunday morning after laboring all day Saturday, there was a strangeness to the room that I've never felt before. It had the impression of the halfway point between my room of old and a freshly-cleaned hotel room. It was a new strange, but it felt instantly comfortable and inviting. Everything single item within the room, without reservation, elicited a positive interaction/reaction, and for me that's the ultimate magic of KonMari method. 

Henceforth I shall be much more deliberate in keeping things that don't make me happy away from my room.