Oh, yes, it is perpetual, this domestic tidying. And the randomness of it all: lone baby socks, cardboard toilet roll holders, leaflets, toast crusts and the occasional crushed grape on the carpet. I found a 50 pence piece under the bed and felt the urge to throw it in the bin, just to save me walking down the stairs again to try to find my purse. But of course I didn't. That would have been wasteful to the point of immoral.
I now have three bars of Palmolive soap sitting on the hall unit. The hall unit where everything miscellaneous ends up. I had bought a 4 pack of the soap on a whim, thinking it smelled fresh and alpine. Eh? Rethink - durr, it smells like an explosion in a Magic Tree factory, garish and over-chemically. I am struggling through the first bar and must jettison the others! But where shall they go? Let them not linger for too long in my hallway. Be gone, soaps, but not wasted. Fragrance-free soapery, I open my arms to you again.