as it grew closer and closer to five, i found it nearly impossible to tear myself away from all the wonderful MT stuff out there. and then all of a sudden it has to look like i did stuff in the house. twenty five minutes of panic cleaning, i swear to god it's like when i was sixteen and my parents would go on vacation and i'd leave everything till hours before they were due back in, it's that same feeling. and chris ... well, whenever he's talking about the subject of the stuff he'd like me to do during the day, he projects a sort of patronizing pessimism. which is not entirely unfounded, but it doesn't help. nothing would, there isn't an attitude he could have that would get this house cleaned while there are internet connected PCs in the picture.
so i'm sitting here posting, saying it's a break (after twenty five mintues of cleaning). i sit here as the deadline draws closer and there's no way to fake it to the point it looks like there was any real effort made on my part.
i would try to have a so-what outlook on all this, but i know it's not right. one of these days i'll do the house stuff first and the rest of the day will be a reward, rather than have the whole day fly by while i dread and postpone and bargain and generally ruin my own fun, knowing that the consequences are building up with every ten more minutes i take. i take this time, for myself, but i also take it from myself. and all this time i take, for all i spend it doing things i enjoy, i also waste a significant percentage of the enjoyment knowing what awaits me.
ok, i have to go finish swiping halfheartedly at some bathroom surfaces, and maybe fold the laundry. it won't be enough, not even to assuage my own guilt feelings, let alone to avoid hearing him complain again.
i would like it better if this weren't just a lot of whining, but it is, and it's all i've got, and ... ok, i'm going, i'm going.
you're so busted!!!!!!!! ;)
unless the clorox saved me. i mean, in my frightened state i sprayed an entire spray bottle of half and half clorox and hot water on the mildew stains in the bathroom grout? and now it's nearly white. that could pass for hard work, i left a sponge by the tub to suggest scrubbing took place. -- realistically, this is me just clinging to false hope, i'm still busted.
but i should get points for gassing myself with chlorine in the name of cleaning, right?
good try, kd! i guess chris doesn't read your site? *smile*
Hey, I've thrown away dirty dishes rather than wash them, and Heather just uses paper plates so she doesn't ever have to do dishes. Squalor. Learn to love it. be one with it.
Ha! We used to hide all the dirty dishes in the oven. Then, my wife got attitude about it. "They don't come to see my house. They come to see me, or screw 'em."
Um, I have to go clean the kitchen now...
i agree with the squalor part that stacey said. it's no fun being clean.
actually, cleaning has serious ill effects to my productivity. you see, when i'm living in a big pile of things, my mind keeps a fairly accurate file system, so i know which strata to start digging in when i need something. when i clean, i am in such a hectic mental state that afterwards, when i try to figure out where i put something, all i can remember is that it made perfect sense at the time. later, i'll discover that 'perfect sense' meant 'the bank statements are stuffed in a box with old appliance cords, half used bottles of styling products, exercise equipment, sewing supplies, and shoes i used to love. at which time i'll suddenly remember, oh right! i filed them under things i might need someday but don't want to look at now!
i tried that the other day. housework first then everything else second. just to say i tried it.
See, I've been slacking for two weeks while hub was gone. So I'm loading the dishwasher this morning (after two weeks of washing and using the same three plates over and over again) and soaking whites before I left this morning. Then before I go get him from the airport, I'll vacuum all the cat hair and places where she spit up hair balls and attempt to sweep the tater tots out from under the table. Though, if I leave *some* crumbs under there, he'll think we actually ate at the table instead of on the couch in the den while watching Rolie Polie Olie. Hmm. I feel your pain.
cleaning is nothing more than transferring dirt from one site to another. My motto is "one place is as good as another"