Dust Bunnies/Rabbits

It would be interesting to conduct a poll regarding housecleaning rituals if only to feel reassured that I am not alone in relegating all tasks pertaining to the physical maintenance of my humble abode, to the much awaited weekend. Friday Euphoria, upon closer inspection, will probably turn out to be somewhat of a precursor to getting down to those wonderful chores that I do not want to face during my busy work weeks, and may account for the almost manic obsession with "cleaning" the place once Saturday dawns. Every Friday night without fail I make sure to lay out my trusted dust cloth so that it is the first thing I see when I wake up. This does not guarantee that I become a mad duster after my toast and juice, it only means that from nearly wherever I am inside these walls, I have only to look up at the counter and there it is. Whenever we make eye contact my dusting cloth and I, we share looks of accusation and explanation. It is obvious that the cloth is saying J'accuse, while I appear to have become an encyclopedia on the reasons for the delay in attacking the dust that dances gaily throughout my inner sanctum, hiding under furniture, lovingly embracing the television screen and somehow managing to multiply with each passing hour. I am an excellent rationalizer and although I know that the best dusting results are achieved during the daylight hours, I tell myself that it's just fine to save up on my arm energy until the evening and I further convince myself that late in the day "exercise" will help me sleep more soundly. It is now definitely way past the daylight hour and I THINK I can finally go attack those dust-bunnies who while I have been busy procrastinating, seem to have grown into
full-blown dust rabbits!