During this pandemic and its related quarantine, I’ve learned quite a bit about myself.
I love sitting on the front porch and watching nature.
I love having my husband work from home.
Oh, and evidently, I’m both a neatnik and a total slob at the same time.
Think these two ways of living can’t possible co-exist? I’m here to tell you that not only can they co-exist in the same house, but also in the same person.
Perhaps I should explain…
I began by cleaning paper from my office. (You may have read about it in a previous column. And if you didn’t, go do so now. Really. I’ll wait. Did you read it? Okay. Good. Back to this column.) But I didn’t just end up cleaning paper. I cleaned everything—I polished furniture; I cleaned the windows, and I even vacuumed. But not only the floor; that’s for amateurs.
I vacuumed where the walls meet the ceiling. I vacuumed dust off the ceiling. I vacuumed off the tops of framed pictures and my awards.
I sucked the dirt out of everywhere…so to speak.
More recently, one weekend my husband and I decided to clean our living room, bathrooms, and kitchen.
Yeah, I already know—we really know how to party.
I didn’t realize that I was doing it again—getting super meticulous about cleaning—until I asked my husband to bring down some cotton swabs when he went upstairs. He brought them to me, but didn’t ask about them.
I was using them to clean parts of the window sills and the corners where the baseboards meet.
If I were a cleaningaholic—and I know some folks who are—this wouldn’t be unusual. But I’m not. Seriously. In fact, there are rooms in my home that I wouldn’t let you go into right now because there is stuff I need to go through. I won’t say how many piles of stuff.
(And if you’re related to me in any way, I admit to nothing, and my home is always spotless, and you can eat off the floors. But I wouldn’t recommend it.)
But when I get going and start to clean, I want it completely clean.
On this day, though, when I was cleaning our downstairs half bath, my husband thought I was losing it. I cleaned everything from top to bottom, vacuumed any errant dust particles I saw, and ended by cleaning the floor with a rag and cleaner.
Later in the day, I didn’t even want to use it.
“That’s ridiculous,” said my husband.
“But it’s just so clean and wonderful,” I answered.
“That’s why you want to use it now,” he replied. “It’s going to get dirty again, Michele.”
Grrrrr…he was right. So I used the bathroom.
When I came out, I went into the kitchen and got a sponge out of our cabinet.
“Um, what are you doing?” my husband asked. “I thought we were done cleaning for the day.”
“We were, but I just found some spots on the wall. I’m going to get rid of them.”
He just stared at me.
“Don’t give me that look!” I exclaimed. “You did this exact thing when we were keeping our townhouse clean for buyers before we moved!”
“Yeah,” he said, “but I didn’t know how funny it was to watch.”
Believe it or not, my husband is still alive after this remark. And our bathroom probably needs to be cleaned again. But I’m not going to worry about it. I’ll clean it…soon.
In the meantime, perhaps I’ll tackle one of those piles in the aforementioned rooms that I won’t let you in.
Not that they really exist. Because they don’t.
Michele “Wojo” Wojciechowski, when she’s not cleaning like a madwoman or totally ignoring piles of stuff, writes “Wojo’s World®” from Baltimore. She’s also the author of the award-winning book Next Time I Move, They’ll Carry Me Out in a Box. You can connect with Wojo on Facebook or on Twitter.
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