Today I hoovered my room. I’m not sure if you’ll understand the importance of this event so I’ll repeat it in caps… I HOOVERED MY ROOM. This is a rare event. So rare that the professor of Rare Events, who holds a BA (Hons) in Astonishingly Rare Events at the Rare Event University would be astonished at its rarity. It is neat. It is tidy. There are neat and tidy stacks of books, books that are not randomly flung about the room as if in a fit of readers pique. Books that occupy one of three stages: have been read, are being read, are awaiting being read. They lie in piles, waiting for me.
I may hold a rally to celebrate the uniqueness of his event. Small sentient motes of dust are no doubt holding a pageant at this very moment to commemorate this monumentous event. They wave tiny banners and flags to celebrate being able to see the carpet and having a clear path from wall to wall. Perhaps hold tiny little fairs.