I washed the dishes and my hair last night, and I couldn't help but notice the small, cleaned parts of my life now punctuating my apartment.

I intentionally left my door open this morning to say hello to my neighbors.

The refrigerator will get cleaned this week. Maybe not by me, but it will happen. My shoes are somewhat placed on the shoe rack. The plants in my apartment are still alive. I compost every week.

I made a series of small drawings this week, and now they fill my notebook. I cleaned the space around the melting bar of soap.

The bag of 160 black tea bags I bought in July wasn't too much or too expensive. It was the right amount.

The washing machine might now finally be fixed after the fifth attempt because I called the repair guy again.

The tea bags will run out in February.