Hope and Tissues

I cleaned up the mountain of tissues by the side of my bed yesterday. I thought it was a rather hopeful action; if I thought I'd add another layer of limestone or sedimentary that night, I'd do no such thing. I uncovered several books and a ponytail holder in the monumental undertaking, and by the end my nose was itching at all the dust I had stirred up. So I had no real reason to be hopeful, but if I did, would it really be hope?