It occurred to me tonight, while watching a show about murder victims, that a great number of people traipse through a person's house when they've been killed. There is no longer any privacy, boundaries, or secrets. These people went to work or out for groceries and the next minute their house is an open museum for detectives and CSI agents to wander through.
I know, it's gruesome and strange thing to think about. But that's where my brain goes. And it reminds me of the "mother warning" to wear clean underwear because you never know when you'll be in an accident. Of course, the mother probably didn't know that you immediately release your bowels if you die, so clean underwear is a moot point.
But I digress.
What watching these shows has taught me is that I need to clean my house more often. My goal in life from now on should be to clean my house as though I will be brutally killed and a ton of investigators will be going through all my things looking for leads.
I mean, do I want the last thoughts about me to be "Ugh. Did she even know where the garbage can is? Seriously. Do some dishes, lady."