Janitorial 😱 Cleaning

Okay, hear me out I know this is gonna sound weird, but I swear there's a connection between janitorial work and writing essays. Like, I was halfway through a night shift at the student union (I do part-time custodial work to help pay for college) and I was scrubbing this sticky, mysterious something off the tile, and my brain just went, “Wow. This is kinda like writing an essay.” And not just because both are sometimes a pain in the butt.

Let me explain.

So, I’m a second-year English major, and you’d think I’d be in love with writing essays. Spoiler alert: I’m not. I mean, sometimes it’s cool when I get to rant about something I actually care about, like analyzing horror movies through a feminist lens or whatever. But most of the time? It’s stress, caffeine, and questioning every life choice that brought me to this point.

But here’s the thing after spending a few months mopping floors, cleaning bathrooms, and emptying trash cans at 3 AM, I started noticing patterns. Just like there’s different types of essays, there’s different “types” of messes. Like, cleaning puke off a bathroom floor at a frat party? That’s like a persuasive essay high stakes, high drama, and you better convince that floor it’s gonna sparkle again. Cleaning up after a quiet poetry reading night? More of a descriptive essay vibe gentle, kinda peaceful, just a few crumbs and maybe spilled tea.

And just like with essays, every mess needs its own strategy. You wouldn’t use a dry mop on a soaked cafeteria spill (unless you’re trying to create chaos). Same way you wouldn’t write a compare-and-contrast essay the same way you’d write a narrative one. Each situation has its own approach, tools, and mindset.

I remember last semester, I was up at 2 AM writing this paper about the types of essays for my writing class. It was one of those assignments where the professor is like, “I want you to explore the different types of essay writing and give examples,” and I was like, “Okay cool but I’m running on 4 hours of sleep and my brain is mashed potatoes.” Still, it kinda stuck with me how there are so many genres of essays like argumentative, analytical, reflective, etc. and each one needs its own structure and flow.

That’s when I started seeing the connection. Cleaning, at least in the way we do it professionally, isn’t just “wipe and go.” There’s a rhythm to it. A process. You start with the basic outline clear the trash, sweep, mop kinda like how an essay starts with an intro, body, and conclusion. But the real magic is in the details. Are you cleaning linoleum or tile? Did someone smear nacho cheese on the microwave again (yes, this happens more than I’d like to admit)? You gotta adapt. Just like you would if you’re writing for a science class vs. a history class.

What really blew my mind was when I realized I was using cleaning as an excuse to mentally draft my papers. Like, I’d be vacuuming the upstairs lounge and suddenly remember that I hadn’t added a counter-argument in my persuasive essay on why social media isn’t completely evil. Or I’d be wiping down mirrors and think, “Oh shoot, I forgot to explain the symbolism in that last paragraph.” Cleaning became my weird little brainstorming ritual. Not even kidding.

Also, can we talk about how satisfying it is when both things click? Like, when I finally figure out the perfect thesis statement after hours of writing and deleting, or when I find the right cleaner that gets dried soda off the vending machine without leaving streaks? That little spark of joy? Same energy.

Now I’m not saying everyone should run off and become janitors to get better at writing essays (though tbh, I think a lot of people would benefit from experiencing what it’s like to clean up after others). But I do think there’s value in noticing how the skills overlap. Patience. Problem-solving. Attention to detail. Knowing when to scrub harder and when to leave something alone before you make it worse.

Plus, both have that weird vibe where nobody notices unless you mess up. Like, no one’s gonna email you because the floor’s clean same way no one’s clapping when your essay is well-structured. But make one tiny grammar slip or miss a coffee stain, and suddenly everyone’s got feedback. Brutal.

Anyway, I’m not totally sure where I’m going with this (which also happens in essays, let’s be real), but I guess I’m just saying: whether I’m pushing a mop bucket or pushing past writer’s block, I’ve learned that both things take work, and both are kinda underrated. And sometimes, thinking about different types of essay writing helps me survive a long night shift. Like, I’ll be like, “Okay, this is my expository cleaning round. Just the facts, get it done.” And later I’m like, “Now it’s time for the reflective part, where I ask why people can’t just throw away their own empty ramen cups.”

So yeah. Whether you’re out here scrubbing floors or trying to decode MLA formatting at 1 AM, just know you’re not alone. And sometimes, the mess teaches you more than the lecture ever could.

Peace out ✌️

Jami from Room 304 (a little tired, a little caffeinated, always cleaning)