Last week sucked. Not this past week. This past week was fine, but the week before, during the no soda challenge, it sucked. I realize that as a writer I should be a bit more eloquent about this but really, it was just a week full of stupid, sucky, lame things all piling up on each other until I was feeling a little buried by it all. My friend Whitney literally said to me at one point, “If you need something… Don’t attempt to do it yourself… It could be dangerous… Call me.” Next to that, I think I said it best when I posted this past week’s challenge: “It’s been a rough week and everything in my life just feels a little… Messy. Not tragic, not falling apart, not even bad… Just messy. My brain feels cluttered. My heart feels disorderly. My life just feels a little grubby at the moment.” This was not the way I wanted to kick off my 31st year of life. And Whitney and my friend Laurice felt the same and assisted me with a birthday relaunch dinner to attempt to start this whole thing over again.
So when I looked at my list of possible challenges for the week I knew that I needed to just clean up my surroundings a bit. Scour my space, make it a little more organized, and a little more pleasant.
Let’s get something straight. It’s not like I’m disgusting or anything. You will not find me on an Episode of Clean House; no one needs to do an intervention. But I am generally living in a state of controlled chaos. I hate cleaning. I like the feeling of accomplishment it gives me, but the actual act, ennnh I could do without it.
This is an issue with 2 parts because there is tidying up cleaning, basic organization, putting things away, a place for everything and everything in its place, and then there is actual cleaning cleaning, dusting, mopping, spraying, wiping, etc etc etc.
My issue with the first part, the organization of cleaning is that frankly, I have to much stuff. I know this. I am well aware of this issue. I am a collector by nature. It is a deep rooted personality trait. And I don’t have stuff just to have it. There is sentimental attachment to all of it. Every single knick knack. I don’t want to delve into this to much because I will have a few challenges devoted to this fact, where I will organize specific spaces that I have avoided or let get out of control, get rid of things I don’t need, and just generally try to pare down. But for now, know that I have a lot of crap. And it takes a lot of effort to keep it tidy.
My issue with the 2nd part is that cleaning makes me sick. No really. Cleaning literally makes me ill. I have a list of allergies that takes up an entire sheet of paper. Dust, pollen, mold, animals, trees, grass. Basically, if it is in the air, I am allergic to it. I get 5 allergy shots every week. FIVE. Every. Single. Week. Have for the last 2 years and will continue for the next 3 years at least. I get the highest number of shots of anyone in the doctor’s office. Go me. When I clean, be it dusting or vacuuming, I am supposed to wear a special allergy reduction surgical mask. So just imagine yourself for a minute, donning a mask like you are about to perform an appendectomy every time you whip out the vacuum. And really, I don’t know that it makes that much of a difference. Even when I wear it I can feel the pressure in my head build up, the headaches start, my eyes get itchy… I feel like crap. So cleaning, literally, makes me sick. It’s not an excuse. It’s for real.
But it is also a catch 22. If I don’t clean there is more dust, etc. If I do it gets kicked up and sucked into my sinuses like a magnet. I kind of feel like I can’t win.
There’s another issue here and that is that while I do feel a sense of accomplishment when it is done, I am also annoyed that it so quickly has to be done again. I am anti-making the bed. I like the way it looks, but damn it I am just going to mess it up again… Tonight… It has always been a task that just doesn’t make sense to me. It’s not that I never ever do it. But I don’t do it as a rule. And this holds true for all cleaning. It’s just going to get messy again. Yes, I understand that this is a fact of life but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t annoy me. I like projects; I have always enjoyed project based work. But I like projects because you complete it and move on. Cleaning is one of those never ending things, a Groundhog’s Day of chores.
And you know, there was just never an importance put on cleaning in my house growing up. I think I am for the most part better than my upbringing in this respect, but I also think there is something to be said for not caring that you have the shiniest sink on the block and for spending time on other more important and/or more fun things. When I was a kid I was a total and complete slob. Because I could be. And it was just kind of no big deal. It wasn’t until I went to college and had to live with people who did not come from that sort of upbringing that I had to worry about such things. But actually I adjusted quite well and quickly and in many of my living situations since I was known as the clean one or at least the pretty much as clean as everyone else one. And not only that I found a sense of calm that came with the monotony of cleaning. If I was upset and feeling out of control I knew that I could control something. It was a great outlet. There was a period of time when my roommates in college could immediately tell if something was wrong with me because I would be scrubbing the kitchen, not talking, not listening to music, not paying attention to anything else. All I wanted was to walk away from that kitchen knowing that it was spotless and that I did it. They knew to proceed with caution when trying to speak to me in these moments and that it was only a good idea to do so when I was almost done, winding down, feeling like life was a little more manageable now that there were no crumbs on the toaster. After college this trait calmed down a little, but still I don’t think anyone would have ever said I was a slob to live with (please, dear former roommates, correct me if I am wrong).
And then I moved in with my current roommate Randy. Randy is a very clean person. An exceptionally clean person. His space is always completely organized, completely tidy, completely put together. And because of this, our shared space is always this way too. He is so clean that he cleans up after me. To be clear, this is not something I take lightly, and something I work very hard to not take advantage of. I feel bad when he does it. Still, almost 5 years of living together later, I feel bad about it every single time. When we first moved in together he moved into a place I had been living in by myself for nearly 2 years and almost every day I would come home and something would have been cleaned and reorganized. This might sound like heaven to some of you, but for me, someone who had been living alone, completely in control of my own space, and who had, as I stated, been known as the clean one, I felt like he must think I was an utter disgusting slob. And one day after coming home to find something else suddenly spotless I broke down in tears and confessed that I thought that he thought that I was a horribly disgusting human being and he couldn’t bear to be in this filth another moment.
As it turns out, I’m not that bad, he’s just that clean. And now that I recognize that and we have settled into our Odd Couple ways, everything is cool. I’m sure he cleans up after me more than he would like but he is very generous about it. I’m sure when he saw that this week was going to be all about cleaning he jumped for joy, at least on the inside. Unfortunately for him I concentrated the vast majority of my efforts in my own room because it needed that much love and I needed that much sanity in my personal space. Poor Randy. Maybe next time for the rest of the house (although, I think it probably comforts him more than he would like to admit that when my door is open and he can see inside it looks clean and somewhat orderly, or at least more so than it was before).
Before I move on I should add one more thing. Time. It’s all about the time. I have a moderately hectic life. There will be weeks at a time when I am barely home save to shower and sleep. And during those crazy days, even if I do have some time at home, the last thing I want to do is work on anything. Sometimes you just need to unplug your brain. And I want to catch up on TV, or reading, or the internet, or anything that does not involved a vacuum or sponge. During these days I will come home, dump everything into a pile, and then move on to do the things I have to do in order to keep up appearances (like laundry and ironing, since you know, they frown on wearing the same thing 8 days in a row at my workplace, and want you to look professional and junk). And sometimes that is just all I have the time or energy for. But then when you get to the end of those times you have a pile of crap, a pile of dust, a messy world in general.
And that is what I have come out of. A messy world. And I needed to cleanse.
And so Sunday began my cleaning power hours. I started off with a little bit in our shared space, cleaning off the kitchen counter where I dump my mail and then leave it for days at a time. It was also cluttered with birthday cards, sunglasses, and general other catch-all kind of crud. I cleared it, actually went through the mail, and scoured it. I did a little laundry, a little ironing, and most importantly that day, I cleaned out the bag I use for work. That poor bag… I’m like a boy scout, always prepared… For anything… And as I am working on events, big and small, I will throw things into the bag and very rarely take them out. I had been meaning to do this for awhile but kept putting it off thinking it was going to take forever. It didn’t. And that one little thing was enough to make me feel like I could start my week feeling a little lighter. Literally.
Monday was devoted to my bathroom. My bathroom was not in such a state that I would have been embarrassed for anyone to see it, but I will tell you that it was getting close. Not only was it in a state of disarray, it needed actual cleaning as well, the sinks, the shower, the tub, everything needed a good scrub. There is something that is very calming about a clean bathroom. I think because it is where I get ready for my day, if I am starting my day in a state of chaos how can I expect it to be anything but chaotic. I think the bathroom has replaced the kitchen for me as far as the space that I feel the most gratification from scouring. And all the rest of the week I just kept thinking how much nicer it was.
On Monday I also started to tackle the heap-o-crap that had been piling up on my bedroom floor. That was a lesson for me that I was even able to get to that since I figured cleaning the bathroom would take me way longer than an hour. It didn’t and I got way more done than I thought I could.
On Tuesday I tackled my dressers and night stands, clearing them off, dusting them, dusting everything on them (no small act…). I also made my bed (Yep, that’s right, I did it) and vacuumed the entire upstairs of our apartment, yes, including Randy’s room… Although I’m pretty sure my version of vacuuming (no straight lines, not getting into every nook and cranny) may drive him a little bit nuts.
Wednesday was devoted almost totally to ironing and laundry… For a single woman I do a ridiculous amount of laundry. And ironing because I pretty much have to iron all my work clothes. Do other single people do this much laundry? I am not a clothes horse; I don’t change my clothes 8 times a day… And while I am thinking about it, how the hell do you people with kids have time to do anything other than laundry??
Thursday and Friday I devoted, almost entirely, to my Alice in Wonderland collection. I have a ton of Alice stuff. I love it. I’m not getting rid of any of it. Don’t ask me. However, it is an entire collection of little knick knacks, and figures, and snow globes, and more, that all need to be dusted. And I had not touched it in forever. In fact as I had acquired more items I had just placed them on the shelf and not rearranged anything. So now not only was everything covered in a pretty impressive layer of dust (on glass shelves that were covered in a pretty impressive layer of dust) it was a jumbled mess. I took every single item off the shelves and put them on the floor so I could clean the shelves themselves off and then spent that day and the next dusting every single item as I put it back up. And then vacuuming again since now my bedroom floor was covered in dust. What a pain in the ass. A necessary, long over due, I’m glad I did it pain in the ass.
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| Jumbled Dusty Mess |
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| Slightly Less Jumbled, No Longer Dusty Mess |
Saturday, the last day of the challenge was a weird day. I opted not to post this recap that day because I had so much going on and wanted to get my last power hour in. But to be honest I did not get one straight power hour in. I had a date that day and spent the morning doing other things and only got about 15 minutes of general tidying up done. I was feeling a little guilty about this because after the date I had a housewarming party to go to and knew that I was probably not going to have time to get the rest of the hour in unless I opted to do it when I got home that night, which, lets not kid ourselves here, was not going to happen. However, lucky for the state of this blog, the date went very very badly. Very. So much so that I cut it off short and ended up coming home with several hours to spare before I needed to head to the party. Date fail. Blog win. So I spent some time on a little more laundry (seriously?! What the hell am I wearing all week??), making my bed (yes again, I know… We’re all shocked), and just generally picking up a few of the things that had gotten a little messy again through the week.
And so here I sit, feeling a little less cluttered, a little more like my head is on straight, and my heart is in the right place. I had the same realization that I always have when it comes to things like this and that is that it never takes me as long as I think it will and I can get a lot accomplished if I focus on it for a few minutes. I also found myself not feeling as sick as I have in the past which means that my allergy shots are working, and that the Benadryl I took every day before having at it helped the situation (although made me exhausted). Am I going to clean for an hour every day for the rest of my life? Oh hell no. But do I appreciate the feeling of things being clean and organized? You betcha. I actually found myself wishing that I had more time to tackle other areas. I’ve got an office that is screaming for some attention. But hey, I’ve got 49 more weeks to go, there is plenty of time. I’ll get to it. I’ll get to it all.
*Pictures courtesy of Google and my cell phone. J
