FIELD NOTE 6.61 - Cleaning house.

Before we are able to vacate this Parisian apartment it must be clean. Living here for a month has led to the accumulation of dust in corners and promises to clean later. But now we are at the point where all the "I can get it later"'s in the world are not enough and so today I took the dustpan and broom out and began the long process of cleaning.
Funny to think that for such a small apartment cleaning it should last so long. But now the sun is setting and the apartment is finally clean to the point where it looks like none of us have ever been here. Were it not for my luggage and made bed I would be tempted to believe that even now I was gone.
This sterilization of space has been the same for every room I've ever rented. And even still every time it comes time to move again, the entire process feels new. But if I could count the number of rooms I've left behind without a trace of me, the number would be great - all those dorm rooms, apartments, and hotel rooms.
So many places where I am not remembered. But the irony of this is that even now I begin to forget what all those rooms looked like. I fear that this apartment will soon be among those fading memories. But this is a fear I always carry, like a coat.