sarah cynthia sylvia stout

Inspired by Mama.

I love to clean house. I do it at least once a year, if not twice.

Okay, seriously? There is no satisfaction like having everything in its place, like the smell and sheen of a truly clean floor, like the sparkle of a freshly-scrubbed bathtub, like the scratch of properly laundered towels. (I prefer my towels sans softener. I enjoy the scruff of a good, clean, softener-free, line-dried, sun-baked-to-a-rigid-sheet-of-sandpaper bath towel. Seems cleaner to me.) Books lined up nicely, dog toys put away, coffee table free of papers, an empty and sanitized kitchen sink. I like these things as much as the freaky people who actually keep their homes this way.

So why are there coffee mugs in the bathroom, a sink piled with dishes, a workstation buried under three-year-old bills and ceramic cats, earrings in the kitchen?

I have no kids to blame it on. I can only blame so much on the dog and cat. I don't have a slovenly housemate (while he's no neat freak, the earrings in the kitchen definitely aren't his), my parents didn't raise me in a pigsty. I don't know. There's just always something I'd rather be doing than cleaning up my mess.

The greatest housecleaning I ever accomplished was when I broke up with my first "serious" boyfriend the summer between junior and senior years in high school. My two best friends were in Majuro and I kept getting postcards from them saying how much fun they were having - and I was here, brooding, with nothing to do but wash all the sheets in the house - several times - then iron them, fold them, and put them away. Ditto the towels. Then I started on the windows, floors, and other people's bedrooms. At the time I thought my desire to clean the whole house was symbolic. Now I see it was neurotic.

Couldn't it be said that the reason I have never cleaned house so thoroughly since then is that I've never fallen into the same kind of funk? Yes, that sounds great.

Them: "Ooh, you have a lot of dishes to wash."
Me: "Yeah, I know. But I can't do them. I'm way too happy with my life right now!"

Now that the BF and I are going to be permanent roommates (25 days till), I think it's quite possible that the greatest wedding gift I could give him is a sincere effort to overhaul the place - and my attitude toward clutter. Me - I live in it, I have a good relationship with it, but it's not like we can't part ways. Maybe I don't have to be up to my neck in unfolded laundry before I decide to do something about the place. Maybe we can make some new housekeeping policies, like making sure the sink is empty before going to bed. And hey, my mom taught her rottie to put away his toys. Maybe we could teach our cat to clean out her own litterbox.

... Yeah, you're right. Baby steps first. Maybe I'll take out the trash tonight.