Ahhh, the sweet ring of dirt being sucked up a vacuum! The gentle trickle of water being wrung from a mop. The shiny floor at the end of a long night. Yes, I am a janitor.
Tell me, does the shame lie with the one who clean up the messes of others, or in being the one that creates them in the first place? (Like nasty, neglectful messes, not just normal every day ones.) The world may never know.
While I am waxing philosophical, the floors aren’t waxing at all….