Out of Sight, Out of Mind

What I cannot see does not exist.

Wait, wait now. All of you who know me, stop waving your hands in the air yelling "What happened to the 21st century open-minded lover of and believer in science and technology?!" and let me elaborate a little.

I'm not talking here about a distant galaxy billions of light years away from Earth that we cannot see but it's there nonetheless. And I'm not talking about a tiny microbe floating about in our bloodstream which we cannot see, but it's there nonetheless making us sick and all. What I AM talking about here is...dirt.

Yes, dirt. The one in my house. Particularily the one hiding along the wooden beams up along the ceiling or in the little nooks and crannies that are all over the apartment. Oh, I know it's there, but I choose to believe it is not. Why? Because I choose to ignore it and leave it there be. When you live at the top floor of a chalet-type house with a sloping roof and huge exposed wooden beams crisscrossing each other above your head, you tend to be the victim of all kinds of dust collecting on, behind and in between those beams high up there and undisturbed.

Of course I can disturb it. And how. But seriously people (who know me) what guess you? Would I'd rather spend my time reading about the latest cancer research developments, or the latest supernova discovered, or would I rather spend my time perched up 4m high on a rackety lader with a mooshy wooshy dust thingie swatting at dust bunnies??

Correct. And therefore, to make myself feel less (if not at all) guilty about my preferrence in daily activities, I've chosen to believe that what (dust) I cannot see does not exist. Period.

I should mention here that my lovely husband (who knows me better than I even know myself) has conveniently volunteered to go after those dust bunnies himself next spring. How I love the man!