I Shake Crumbs From My Keyboard

Today, I picked up my computer keyboard, turned it over, and shook.  Out fell the crumbs of lunches long forgotten, and other unidentifiable crud.  Apparently, computer keyboards can harbour more bacteria than toilet seats.

Shaking out my keyboard only occurs when I have either got stuck on a particularly difficult task, or when I am feeling intense existential angst and seek the fulfillment which comes from cleaning something.

When I'd swept up the debris, and turned the keyboard back over, it didn't look any cleaner.  

Other things I do in acts of random cleaning include washing the seals around the inside of the dishwasher and dusting the floor underneath the piano.  

There's nothing like task avoidance for getting a fairly pointless job done.

I use various implements for deeper keyboard cleaning.  I've never had the recommended can of compressed air to hand, so I improvise using pencils, uncoiled paper clips and the corners of folded paper to lever out the fluff which collects between keys.  Each little furry clump that I extract represents a moment of satisfaction.