Day 39. 91,158 words.
Today, basically what we did was clean my parents’ holiday mansion, pack the cars and drive back up to Perth. That was pretty much it.
My dad’s cleaning compulsion has gotten worse as he’s gotten older and with nobody but my mum to rein him in. The old beach house in Dunsborough used to require nothing more than a quick run-around with the vacuum cleaner to get the worst of the sand out of the carpets and the breadcrumbs off the kitchen linoleum. Now, the house (which is three times the size of the Dunsborough one) was practically disinfected. It was … a little disturbing to watch (and of course be required to help out with, and attempt in vain to mitigate a little).
Obsessive compulsives in my readership be warned: This shit doesn’t mellow with age. This shit gets more intense and uncontrollable.