Disinfect and Dust

I cleaned my desk the other day. I disinfected the hell out of it. The smell of those lemon fresh wipes suffocated this back room but I was pleased. It glistened under the fluorescent lights. My coworkers – those slack-jawed housewives – all came over to see how remarkable a transformation it had been. Where there had once been a thick layer of dust was now sparkling with the sheen of chemicals. Everyone was generally pleased and smiled offhandedly and went back to their desks. I assume with aspirations of a similarly clean workspace.

I am not a huge clean freak. For me, dust was oftentimes an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ issue. If I didn’t see it, it didn’t concern me. There is an upper shelf to my desk. It houses all these files that I rarely use but wish I used more. Lately, they’ve been collecting a lot more dust than revenue. I moved one of those files and I was confronted with a cloud of dust. A cloud! It was mortifying! I gasped, I wheezed. I wanted to open a window but tragically, our office lacks opening windows. So, I had nowhere to hide from the swarm of ninja dust that was no longer hiding amongst my unused files. Now there was an army of dust on my keyboard, my computer screen, where I rested my snacks for the day. Everywhere you looked, there was dust.

So, I disinfected. I wiped down the whole entire desk. I felt pretty liberated afterward too. I was immediately greeted with clearer sinuses and improved breathing. Initially, my coworkers weren’t terribly pleased with the dust cloud over my desk. They, sadly, were in the debris field that the dust left. Pardon the pun but, once the dust settled, all was forgotten and my newly cleaned desk was welcomed.

The rest of the day went by wonderfully. No sneezing, no coughing, no watery eyes. I made every attempt to not undo the cleanliness I had granted myself. The clock finally reached five o’ clock. The day was finally over. I gave my desk a once over with the disinfecting wipes, focusing on the areas I trafficked the most. As I left for the day, I looked back at my workspace, the smell of the disinfecting bleach cleaner hovering in the air.

The next morning, I came into my office smiling with pride over the cleanliness of my space. I sat down and admired my work. While checking my messages, I saw it. Resting in the triangle of space formed by my telephone and my stapler was a tiny ladybug. It was facing me with those seemingly enormous eyes. I wasn’t sure what to do. I often remember hearing that ladybugs are good luck. So, I suppose all that cleaning brought this tiny little luck-bringer to me.

I smiled and began my work day. Throughout the course of the day I often found myself staring off at it. I wondered what good luck it was going to bring me. Would I win the lotto? Would my boyfriend finally tell me he loved me? Would I be getting a promotion? As the day wore on, it became so much harder to work. The ladybug’s eyes provoked thoughts and inspired me to daydream. I lost track of time and before I knew it the day was over. I whispered goodbye to my new friend and left for the day.

The following morning I came in to find my new friend waiting for me. It was in the same spot as if it hadn’t moved. It’s eyes were still peering at me. Suddenly a thought crossed my mind. What if it hadn’t moved because it was dead? I wanted to touch her with my finger. Perhaps it was sleeping or maybe it really enjoyed that portion of my desk. Then a thought crept into my head.

What if it was MY fault it was dead? What if all my cleaning was toxic to it and killed it?

This idea simply depressed me. I refused to believe it to be true. How could a clean workspace be a killer? I dismissed this thought and returned to my work. Within moments, my eyes found their way to the portion of my desk with the tiny corpse on it. I couldn’t get the image of it out of my head. I felt like a murderer. A superstitious murderer.

Even now, a few days later, the ladybug sits on my desk in hopes that one day it will wake up and crawl away.