Woah. There's no good way to explain what just happened, so I'll just say it -- I've been cleaning for the past four hours of my life.
Sure, I'm excited for this party, which is probably why I wanted to make the suite look presentable. But this wasn't just some throw-shit-in-the-garbage, get-my-dirty-laundry-off-the-couch, cursory little cleaning job. I scrubbed the sink. And the stove. I fucking ran out of paper towels and started using toilet paper. What the hell is wrong with me?
The weirdest part is, it wasn't like anyone forced me to do it. Hardly anyone was even around. In fact, they probably realized we're having a party tonight and aren't cleaning on purpose because they know they'd just have to clean again tomorrow. There's really no plausible excuse for this kind of behavior.
I'm so lost and confused. Please, someone, anyone, tell me what I've become! I think it felt good. I'm scared. Do I...like cleaning?
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