I've already made the quip about not being able to show my face on television. This is my based-on-a-true-story video about loss, grief, and trying again. And scrubbing the kitchen floor with a toothbrush. Which I really and truly did do, for a solid couple of hours.
I apologise in advance for the poor video quality. Like a bad workman, I'm going to blame the fact it was shot using a digital still camera bought in 2003. Transcript follows.
This happened a few weeks after the dilatation and curettage. I woke up with this overpowering urge to clean. It's probably all symbolic and shit.
The house was quite messy. I started with the easy things - the kitchen... dishes... I just kept going. It was like I'd scratched the surface and all of a sudden I realised how much shit there was and how much I wanted to scrub it all away.
It always looks messier before it looks tidier. But if you don't get all this stuff out you can't sort through it. It just stays behind closed doors in a big jumble. You accumulate so much crap without realising it.
It's not about just throwing things away, though. Spring cleaning, it's about deciding what to keep. Sometimes the things you keep are things you'd forgotten you had. You don't throw out stuff that's valuable or precious. You dust it off, you clean it, you wash it, you fold it, you put it away... you put everything in its right place.
Be pretty silly to think it was going to stay like this. Life's not neat and tidy. I think that's why we have these rituals.