Alexander's

The other day I dropped my pen and it rolled under my bed.

Now I know some might consider that me dropping a pen is more than enough to warrant a full blog post, but honestly this post is not about my pen — Nor is it about me getting clumsy.

It’s about this most wondrous place called under the bed.

For many people it’s a place where dirty underwear, half eaten lunch packs and dust balls magically gather. Add a few porn magazines and random dropped stuff to the mix and you get one big smelly monster.^[1]

Even mothers rarely look down there. Maybe some things are just too gruesome — even for them.

But all of this does not concern me.

I don’t hoard stuff,^[2] I don’t drop things(!) and as for the dustballs — I might be a bit sloppy when it comes to cleaning places I can’t see, but that’s why we have a cleaning lady.

Clearly the space under my bed would be clutter free and sparkling clean!

So when I looked under my bed to pick up my runaway pen, it was with the confidence only a clear consciousness can provide.

But to my great horror I found out that apparently our cleaning lady isn’t very fond of cleaning in hard to reach and seldom seen places as well.

Good thing she has only been cleaning for a year or so.