IN FITS AND STARTS

There are those who systematically carry out their house work on a regular schedule, you know; spring cleaning in the spring, washing windows multiple times a year, regular cupboard and closet purges according to the seasons.  I’m even related to some of them.  I watch them from the sidelines amazed at their resolve and work ethic.  Whatever the genetic material required for this is, I do not possess it.  Luckily my genetic coding does seem to cover thriving in a dusty environment.

It’s not that I don’t clean at all; it’s just that the urge do so only hits me sporadically.  I will be drifting through life, oblivious to the dirt and grime accumulating in my house, and then one night I will sit down to watch TV and see the smudges around the light switch, or the spider’s webs in the corners, and know something has to be done.  What ensues is usually a week of chaos.

You would think a dirty light switch is a small problem, easily remedied.  Wrong.  If I wash where I can see the dirt, then there’s a comparison patch of clean and not clean … which means I have to wash the whole wall … which means I wash the whole room … which means I may as well paint the darned thing since it’s all clean.

Which, of course, means I have to clean out cupboards if I’m doing this right … and now I have stuff to sort to other cupboards and closets.  Soon there are piles of ‘garbage’, ‘give away’ and ‘God only knows!’ spread all over the house.  I think that’s why I hate cleaning so much; the way I do it the job always spirals out of control.

Lately it has been the state of my kitchen cupboards that has been getting to me.  A few people I know have recently upgraded and renewed their kitchens with the help of IKEA, everything looks so modern and well planned, storage is a dream come true.  But, as envious as this makes me, I am cheap too.  Do I want to spend that kind of money?  No.  How about I just shine up the ones I’ve got?  A little soap and elbow grease is all that’s called for!

So began my Monday morning.  All I was going to tackle was the outside of the cupboards.  But first the fridge had to be moved out … which meant removing some of the heavier stuff in it … which led to cleaning it – inside and out – while I was at it.  Which led to washing some dishes … and putting them away … which led to rearranging one shelf … which led to sorting to another one … which led to taking all the ornaments and souvenirs off the shelving unit in the living room and washing them … which led to cleaning out my china cabinet and washing everything in it … which took me back to the top kitchen cupboards to sort out more of the fancy stuff and washing all of it, as well. 

I stepped down off the step ladder for the last time that day at 4:30 in the afternoon, clutter all around me, supper still to make, and realized the only panel of kitchen cabinets I had actually cleaned was the one no one could see because the fridge was back in its place.  I had worked all day and not done the one thing I had set out to do.  I’ve made a deal with myself that I will not do any Christmas baking until those cupboards are shiny. 

It gives me a deadline. 

And the reward of butter tarts will keep me going.

I got a post from my niece last night telling me that she also suffered from ADCD (attention deficit cleaning disorder).  I don’t think it’s fair to even compare us.  She is so clean conscious that she runs her own cleaning business; that would never happen to me.  Granted, we may clean the same way – from room to room to room – but she does it on a regular basis.  At best all I manage is fits and starts.