i get motivated to clean my room for about a half hour.
this is just enough time for me to pull nearly every article of clothing that isn't already off its hanger, off its hanger,
this is just enough time for me to unpack every box of shoes and grab a sharpie so that i can write its contents on the outside.
this is just enough time for me to transfer every single thing on my floor to my bed, where it inevitably remains for at least three days, thus forcing me to fall asleep on the couch to the melodious voice of conan and/or kilbourne.
this is just enough time for me to move furniture so i can dust behind it.
this is just enough time for me to build a pyramid of coke zero cans and be amused by it.
however
this is not enough time for me to fetch a broom. or a vacuum. or a swiffer.
this is not enough time for me to actually dust anything. certainly not my overloaded bookshelves or bureaus or desktops or the couch and coffee table.
this is not enough time for me to hang everything back up.
this is not enough time for me to remember to put clothes for the salvation army in a bag.
this is not enough time for me to filter through little momentos like movie ticket stubs and receipts and drink umbrellas and business cards.
this is not enough time for me to actually follow through on my elaborate plans to clean the disaster that is also known as my room.