An Inner Monologue While Cleaning My Car

OK, I’ve put it off long enough. I haven’t seen my floor mats in months and the backseat is starting to look like the Death Star’s garbage compactor. I wouldn’t actually be that surprised if a giant cephalopod was living back there. If I ever gave Luke Skywalker a ride home from Jedi training he would probably kick around the piles of gym clothes and Starbucks cups and then say, “There’s something alive in here.” Damn. Maybe I should watch “Star Wars” instead of cleaning my car. No. Must focus.

This won’t be that bad. I’ll just separate everything into different bags: one for trash, one for recycling, one for cracked System Of A Down CDs, one for… why is there a dog collar under my passenger seat? Does that mean there’s a dog in here somewhere? When was the last time I had a rabies shot? I need to stay on top of these things.

Huh. Pretty sure that used to be an orange peel. It looks like a science project I did in 6th grade where I just displayed some rotten food I’d found in the back of the ¬†fridge and wrote, “Mold In Action” on a poster board. I think I got a B. Oh sweet! Money! Wait, that’s a Russian ruble. Who has been exchanging currencies in the backseat of my car? Probably my little brother. His pockets are like the world bank. And here’s a hawk feather! WHAT HAS BEEN HAPPENING IN MY BACKSEAT?!

So, this stain could be melted lipstick or blood. Let’s go with lipstick. Although there is a distinct possibility that both a Russian spy and a bird of prey have been in my car. I can’t imagine that ending well. This is definitely blood.

Do I really drink this much Starbucks or have these cups been breeding? I really don’t think I drink this much Starbucks. Whatever. I’m gonna need a bigger recycling bag. Ooh! My lost earring! I’ve been looking for this for months! I think I’ll celebrate by watching “Star Wars” and finishing this tomorrow.

[Photo of woman cleaning car from Shutterstock]