I cleaned my room today.

I've been meaning to do it for a long while, at least a week, maybe more, but I just never found the strength to do it.

I had my workout to complete, games to play, music to listen to... Excuses to drum up, seemingly, as well. Today, though -- or tonight, rather -- I dug in my pockets so hard I ripped my pants; No excuses to be found tucked away in any corner or crease. I took up the broom and wet wipes, and went at it.

It's not perfect, but it's good enough, I figure. It's clean enough that I feel somewhat comfortable walking around barefoot! That's something... Though I suppose it's more a testament to how filthy it was before than anything else. Whatever!!

I feel good, though not great. I think there's so much more I should've, maybe could've done! Yet, I didn't do more than that. Maybe I'm being too hard on myself here, but oh well.

I've also resolved myself to read some books on Georgism. I've heard just a little too much about it to dismiss it, now.

I wore my black pants, today.