All entries for Monday 02 January 2006
January 02, 2006
'Right', I said to myself, 'Time for spring cleaning'. And indeed it was. Because although it was nowhere near spring, our bathroom was, well, a little mouldy. And since I had nothing better to do (coursework doesn't count), and knowing I'd not get another chance until term finished, I decided to face… THE BATHROOM OF DOOM.
I took down the shower curtain (N.B this is not actually a shower curtain but a piece of tarpaulin. It loses only a smidge of aesthetic appeal but no doubt saves our landlord all of £5). This went into the washing machine in an attempt to rid years of collected shower gel (which was some fairly unnatural colours, even for shower gel).
Then off to the Co-op for some rubber gloves, since there are things in that room that I'm not going anywhere near with bare hands. I have to make do with Iceland since Co-op is obviously too good to be open on a Bank Holiday. But I do manage to buy some cheap chicken nuggets at the same time.
Back home, I delve into the back of my wardrobe and find some toilet duck my mum sent me back in September. This is clearly going to be one of my allies in the war on dirt. I go in with a plastic bag and pick up all used toilet rolls, empty toothpaste tubes and things I'm not sure what they are from the floor. Applying copious amounts of 'bathroom cream' to every available surface, the chemical smell soon makes me feel queesy, but I persevere. About 1 hour of hard scrubbing, and one sore back later, I stand back to admire the transformation.
Except, there isn't one. No amount of scrubbing could have removed those years of grit from the plughole. There is still mould on the walls. There is still dirt ingrained on the surfaces, except now it's shiny dirt. No amount of work could make this look better. I'm wondering why I didn't just let it fester a little longer and get Kim and Aggie in. Mabye they'd even pay us for that.
'Never mind', I think, as I go downstairs to the washing machine. At least the shower curtain will be clean. Except I discover, to my horror, that those 'years of collected shower gel' have turned into bubbles, thousands of bubbles, so many bubbles they couldn't all be contained. Oh well, at least the Kitchen floor will be clean.