And his enemies shall lick the dust...

Today I vacuumed the two busiest communal rooms downstairs. I discovered that on just those two squares of carpet it is possible to distribute approximately 250 grams of fine dust and a double handful of hair. I note with interest that the colour of these hairs changes about 10 millimetres from the follicle.

This is a minor disgrace, usually I cannot permit the accumulation of filth to this breathtaking extent. But it is sometimes necessary to signal to other occupants of the Habitat that I am not the fucking house maid, and my usual employment is not cleaning up after indolent and dissolute cretins. That and my mind has been acutely concerned with the harvest my stolen nail clippers recently reaped.

Dust is chiefly composed of dead skin cells and other tasty organic matter, some inorganic matter and the feces of the dust mites which feed on the organic matter. I prefer not to live with this substance.

What amazes me is that this amount could build up so quickly. I am convinced that the IT Bastard and The Artist are coming down in the dead of night and vigorously exfoliating each other and performing unspeakable acts of depravity with pumice stones, combs and nail clippers. God knows what other Satanic rituals are required to generate so much crud.

I was weak and cracked first. However, all is not lost. I managed to spread some of this collection on a pile of clean washing. For dust thou art, and your dust I shall return.