deep clean purity

I dun­no wtf was wrong with me but last night I was fa-REAK­ING out about my house be­ing “filthy.”

My house is not filthy. My house is light years away from filthy. Some­times it gets a lit­tle clut­tered and laun­dry piles up on the couch, and the car­pet up­stairs is old (I hate it). 

But my house is not filthy. 

But last night I was full on Frank from IASIP want­i­ng to be “pure.”

I blame part of it on my feet shed­ding skin like a lizard. When some­thing gross is go­ing on with me, then EVERY­THING is gross. Be­fore I went to bed last night I ob­ses­sive­ly scrubbed my feet with a wash cloth. I think that helped a lot.

Lol I’m kin­da fucked up, y’all.

But I’m doin’ alright.

—emi­ly duchaine

Flom­mist Emi­ly Duchaine lives in the Pa­cif­ic North­west. She likes to drink mead, learn about sharks, and lis­ten to the Talk­ing Heads. She pre­tends to be a pro­fes­sion­al busi­ness­woman most days. Copy­right © 2020 Emi­ly Duchaine.

MOR D’ARTÍCULOS  MOR FLOMM !

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i hope you know this will go down on your per­ma­nent record ‘yeah, what­ev­er, you think we didn’t know dan har­mon is sick?’ provo­ca­tion is insanity? wat the ‘rules’ have got­ten us good for you house own­er­ship so those resolutions mon­day.