1 I have never felt so seen nor so alarmed at being seen than when I read this piece from Danny Ortberg (from the late lamented The Toast): “My Clean Floor” And The Battles You’re Only Aware Of Once You’ve Lost

When did I become The House Noticer? Walk past the fridge, register idly There are thumbprints on the handle. Gotta clean them off. Crumbs in the vegetable drawer, too; someone’s going to have to lift them out with a damp paper towel. And the Pledge gets the dust off the kitchen table but it doesn’t do a thing about the water-glass rings, so someone’s going to have to find out what does that. Are any of the bath mats damp? Wait for the afternoon light to come in the windows so you can see just how not-really-clean all the surfaces really are, giving the lie to the idea that you live in a world filled with order and sense. The house has a secret language all for you, and the last thing in the world it wants is for you to share that language with someone–anyone–else.


2. There’s a roundup of the best “home pants” on Man Repeller. I would argue that the truly best ones are Hudson Pants that you sew out of sweatshirt fleece and savings, but I love that the concept is getting discussed.

3. From McSweeney’s: Things I Wish My Therapist Would Say To Me But She Never Does. Accurate.