I recently — and quite manically — cleaned the house I live in with four other girls. We’ve come into a living pattern where we live comfortably for a week or two before realizing the Cheetos Paws bags and empty bottles of alcohol are not going to disappear. Cleaning, for me, has always been a way to organize the equally messy space of my thoughts as well as the physical house itself, making it a win-win situation. I had to get rid of three plants in the house — all of them mine. As I picked them up, I watched as the dried leaves fell onto the table.