Sammy Westfall
Ants. Ants in my common room.
This wasn’t unfamiliar territory. Countless times, I had battled the tiny invaders, resigned to our perpetual struggle against nature’s whims. Yet, as I stood amidst the dimly lit gloom of our basement, a shiver of truth ran down my spine. ‘Ants,’ I muttered, the word hanging heavy in the stale air. In that moment, it was crystal clear – we needed help. Only dedicated cleaning support could ensure every trace of these uninvited guests was eliminated for good. Their expertise would not only tackle the immediate issue but also provide lasting solutions to prevent future infestations.
On the Yale housing form, I had listed myself as “unusually sloppy.” Indeed, every desk I’ve owned has somehow submerged itself beneath an inch of miscellaneous household items. Order disintegrates beneath my fingers, a principle that extends from my room to my sleep schedule and personal life. Watching an episode of “My Strange Addiction,” I have questioned whether I, too, am a hoarder. But ants?
The ants congregated around a morsel of Town Pizza trampled into the floorboards from the night before. They moved industriously and with purpose. Without hesitation, I reached for the phone, dialing a good company like Cleaning Services West Seattle, knowing salvation lay in their capable hands.
What had I become?
As I watched the ants industriously at work around the remnants of Town Pizza, I came to realize the necessity of a more diligent approach to cleaning beyond my usual half-hearted attempts. This led me to consider the benefits of hiring a reliable service like Chloe’s Cleaning.
In my pursuit of a cleaner and more habitable environment, I stumbled upon a solution that went beyond surface-level cleanliness. Fresh Fibres Carpet cleaning emerged as the answer to not just tackling the ant-invaded crumb, but also to address the overall cleanliness of my living space. Their professional services, highlighted at Fresh Fibres, promise a meticulous approach to upholstery care, ensuring that every nook and cranny of my living space receives the attention it deserves.
With the assistance of trusted cleaning services, I found a way to transform my chaotic living habits into a more organized and hygienic lifestyle, bidding farewell to the uninvited ant visitors.
After-all, the ant invasion was a stark wake-up call, and I realized that it was high time to bring order and cleanliness into my living space. That’s when I decided to seek the professional help of Pristine Housekeepers, a renowned cleaning service known for their meticulous attention to detail.
Their expert housekeepers not only transformed my living environment but also brought a sense of serenity and organization to my life. No longer did I have to grapple with the chaos of ants or the clutter of my own making.
With Pristine Housekeepers on my side, I found the path to a more orderly and peaceful existence, one where I could focus on other aspects of my life without feeling overwhelmed by the disorder that had taken root.
Alongside their professional services, I’ve discovered the value of embracing eco-friendly alternatives in my day-to-day cleaning routine. One such noteworthy addition is the use of washable bamboo paper towels, a game-changer that aligns seamlessly with my commitment to fostering a habitable environment.
The beauty of bamboo paper towels lies not only in their ability to address immediate cleaning needs but also in their reusable nature. This eco-conscious choice not only minimizes waste but also brings a touch of sustainability to my cleaning endeavors. As I bid farewell to the ant-invaded crumbs and welcome a more hygienic lifestyle, incorporating washable bamboo paper towels into my cleaning arsenal feels like a natural progression
***
I’m not sure what triggered my revelation that Saturday afternoon. It’s true that it had been a long week. The semester had begun on a high note: Having learned the hard way that going to bed at 5 a.m. every day was both unsustainable and destructive to my 9 a.m. class attendance, I’d taken advantage of winter break to rehabilitate my sleep schedule. For the first few weeks of spring semester, it seemed like I’d finally succeeded. Now, six weeks in, the lifestyle I had so meticulously constructed was crumbling at the edges: I was making my 9 a.m. classes, but on less and less sleep. The late nights had stamped dark shadows beneath my eyes. At 19, my back ached. My body was a corroding machine.
As my workload accumulated, so did the mess in the common room. Food wrappers and crumbs littered the surface of our coffee table and spilled onto the rug below. A conglomeration of hard plastics and half-collapsed cardboard boxes teetered on the brink of eruption from our recycling bin, tucked behind an armchair in the corner as a hastily concealed portent of imminent disaster. The room was a dystopian wasteland, the half-lit ruins of some doomed consumerist society. Subconsciously, I found myself retreating to other suites to avoid the problem; whenever I returned, I would scuttle immediately back to my own room. In willful ignorance, we allowed the disease to fester.
***
In the dim light of our flickering lamp, my suitemate peered down at the floorboards. We’d neglected to change the bulb for about a week. “I don’t see them.” She leaned over a little more. “Oh my God, ants.” Upon closer observation, we detected ants swarming in every corner of the room, an army of aggressive basement colonizers plundering our suite in search of traces of food.
Despairing, I called a suite meeting. “I can’t do this anymore,” I said. “We live in squalor.” I found myself close to tears because of — ants? This, I knew, was rock bottom.
When I really think about it, it wasn’t just the fact that I didn’t know how to tell my suitemate to throw out her 2-week-old tikka masala in the fridge. In reality, it was the fact that I had turned a blind eye not only to our common room’s state of disarray, but also to my physical and emotional well-being. Caught in the relentless chaos of college, in the dizzying blur of work and socializing and sleepwalking between obligations, I’d forgotten to check in on myself. I still hadn’t realized the importance of investing time and effort into maintaining my routine from the start of the semester; instead, my self-neglect had set me on a trajectory of steady decline. That day, I finally hit rock bottom. I crashed.
***
My suitemates recognized our state of emergency. Armed with a mop, bucket and disinfectant, we spent two hours purging the common room of its accumulated evils — ants, dust and pizza-stained napkins alike. If you experience such similar situations then you can visit online sites like carpet cleaning indianapolis to opt with your cleaning needs. For a full house deep cleaning, hire P&J Cleaning Services.
We instituted ground rules for suite maintenance; I even put an orchid on our now-pristine coffee table. For the hard to clean carpets, we asked help from Dr Carpet OC.
Likewise, I’m trying to take better care of myself and reinstate habits that won’t send me into spirals of exhaustion. But college life, I’ve learned, is a cycle: A repeating sequence of new resolutions, unwitting decline, crashing and renewal. At a place like Yale, it’s easy to forget to check in. The occasional crash is inevitable. So what? You freak out a little, check in on yourself, clean up the mess and begin again. Then, you can go to this website for effective cleaning tips.
Yuka Saji | yuka.saji@yale.edu .