"Hello.....Merry Maids?"

How in the fuckity-fuck did it get to be Thursday already? And why did I get very little of what I hoped to accomplish accomplished? The Cleaning Initiative of 2010 has somewhat fallen by the wayside before it ever really began. Mom, I know you're reading this, and probably coming up with a "system" for me as we speak. I'm not good at cleaning "systems". I'm good at stroking checks to cleaning ladies. Systematically. And yes, I realize that my husband is a rock-and-roll realtor and that doesn't pay all that well and that as I DON'T HAVE A JOB I need to take one for the team and clean my own damn house. But the house cleaning thing is cramping my style. Or I guess the idea of the cleaning thing is cramping my style as I haven't really done much in the way of housekeeping this week. I've been busy. Doing good works. And exercising. The guilt of the house being in complete disarray, however, is causing me a great deal of mental anguish. I feel thoroughly inadequate. If the pressure causes me to take to my bed, who will do good works for the little children of Morrison? Who will collect hats for hobos? Not to mention that if I'm laying in bed and not exercising I'll get fat. So, we'll have suffering kids and hatless homeless people and I'll have to be cut out of my dirty-ass house in a televised event hosted by Richard Simmons who will cry and put me on Deal-a-Meal so that one day I will be able to fit through a doorframe. But on the bright side, I probably could pull my shit together to a certain extent. I don't hate everything about cleaning. I like vacuuming. IF someone (DAVE) goes and gets the vacuum for me. I don't like lugging it around. The vacuuming itself is pretty fun in an immediate gratification kinda way. Problem is I now live in a house with about two square inches of carpeting and five acres of hardwood floor. I HATE mopping. Detest it. All of the bucket filling and mop-ringing.......oh, and then there's the actual mopping itself, which totally sucks. And may I point out that my mom labors under the impression that using a mop PERIOD is cheating. She's of the "hands and knees" school of thought. Whatever, mom. I am SO not going there. But along with vacuuming, I also don't really mind cleaning bathrooms all that much. The fumes from the scrubbing bubbles are pretty kick-ass. But why does there have to be so many of them? The bathrooms, not the bubbles. I'm good with the bubbles. I pretty much lose interest after cleaning the first one. Probably 'cause I'm seeing stars. I'm also okay with windows. Again though, it's a situation where there are simply too many of them. If I had four, we'd be good. But I have considerably more than four. All of the rest of the cleaning crap can bite me. Dusting is pretty pointless as it seems to me it needs to be re-done almost immediately. Lasts about two seconds. Why bother?  I'm pretty sure that I have ADHD so unloading the dishwasher is a challenge. By the time I get to the silverware, I've become distracted by something and moved on. And does anybody like changing linens? That involves finding sheets that match and then wrestling everything into submission. Ever tried to change the sheets on bunk beds? That'll drive you to drink right there. As I explained to my mom over the holidays, not everyone is good at cleaning. And I also pointed out that as she is the one that was supposed to raise me to be a nice and proper (and tidy!) little lady she is ultimately responsible for my shortcomings in the areas of housewifery. We won't even get into the being a lady thing 'cause we could write a novel about that one. I remember my brother telling my mom when we were growing up that he couldn't make his bed  because "he didn't know how". Well, that works for me. I can't clean my house. I don't know how.

(c) 2010
Copyright (c) by Mollie Christie, 2010 all rights reserved.