By Heather O.
Yes, it’s true, I’m feeling righteous. No, it’s not because I’ve finished the Book Of Mormon (I won’t even tell you how behind I am. Can one pull an all-nighter for God?), nor is it because I went to the temple recently, or said some awesome prayers, or did my visiting teaching.
No, I feel righteous because my bathrooms are clean.
Sparkling. Bleached. I even scrubbed the shower. I vacuumed the dust from the corners and mopped the floors. Ah, overpowering toxic fumes. The smell of clean.
What does it say about me that I never get this kind of righteous high from anything else? Spiritual malnutrition, or just an unnatural chemical reaction from the Clorox cleaner wafting through my home?
If it is the latter, it then begs the question: Would the spiritual experiences in Sacrement Meeting increase significantly if the bishop scrubbed the pulpit down with Mr. Clean every week?
Anyway, I also vacuumed my carpets, which makes me feel even more righteous. Just think where I could go if I actually organized my storage room. Oh, is that truly nirvana? I can’t even imagine what would happen if I was caught up with my laundry AND my bathrooms were clean. Twinkling, that’s what. Caught up in the twinkling of an eye to the heavens above where Fly Lady greets me at the pearly gates, hands me a golden dust mop, and says, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”
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