There’s something magical about walking into Walmart with a little spending money and a whole lot of excitement. I’m talking about that $250 splurge that sets my soul on fire—not for clothes or gadgets, but for the glorious world of house cleaning products.
Hand towels. Bath towels. Forks and spoons. Garbage bags. Toothpaste. Bath wash. Bleach. Dishwashing liquid. Sweeping and mopping essentials. These aren’t just items—they’re my fuel.
I love the feeling of coming home, unpacking everything, and putting it all in its place. The fresh scent of new cleaning supplies, the crisp folds of untouched towels, the gleam of a stocked medicine cabinet—it’s like a reset button for my spirit. It’s not just about cleanliness; it’s about, comfort, and care. It’s about creating a space that reflects peace and preparedness.
And the best part? It’s just me. So, these treasures last for months. My apartment becomes a sanctuary of stocked shelves and sparkling surfaces. Paper towels and toilet paper stacked like little towers of joy. A medicine cabinet that whispers, “You’re ready for anything.”
This is my kind of self-care. This is what gives me energy.
Inside the mind of cree 