Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Oh anixety how do I loathe thee...let me count the ways...



1.It is 5:12am and I can't sleep...
2.I have been composing this blog in my head since 4:03am...
3.The cat has a hair ball...
4.The carpet in my bedroom needs to be vacuumed...
5.The dishes in the sink are taunting me...
6.My husband's favorite shirt smells like mildew because I left it in the washing machine for much too long...
7.It is 5:16am and I still can't sleep
8.There is a rather large purple couch in my dining room...
9.My "office" needs to be organized
10.The reason we rented this place was for the luxurious screened in porch and it is rapidly becoming a homage to Sanford and Son...
11.I need to write thank you notes...
12.It is 5:20am and yes no sleep still writing about it...
13.The sheets could wash themselves at this point...
14.I am a housewife...
15.I am a jewelry designer...
16.No, today I am a housewife and failing miserably...
17.I have rewashed the shirt twice and it still seems like mildew...
18.Even if I get it all done I have to start it all over again tomorrow...

Monday, May 12, 2008

My decent into domestication...


I just had a moment of clarity. The fitted sheet that has been taunting me with its weird angles and uneven fold finally gave up the fight. I didn’t even give it its normal moment of glory this time. I didn’t sigh. I didn’t curse. I will say that it has been bunched up on the dining room table for the last couple days. But it couldn’t see me. It was buried under some towels. However, this morning I picked it up without thinking and somehow managed to fold it into a neat little square! Some of you might say I have too much time on my hands. I say maybe but that fold sure did give me a high this morning!

Recently I have been experiencing a battle with my decent into domestication. Most days I lose to the previous days dinner dishes or the eight (yes I said eight) loads of laundry. Those once neat piles of clothing have started spilling out and hurdling themselves all over the hallway. I haven’t quite figured out how the clothes actually propel themselves out of the baskets I put them in.

On top of all that I just realized that the moment I finally put everything away I have to start all over again. This concept is where the battle begins and ends. I mean where is my Rosie? George and Jane Jetson had it made as far as I am concerned. Rosie cleaned the house, did the laundry and served dinner right out of her belly. As creeping as that sounds, the dinner actually coming out of her robot stomach, today I wouldn’t turn it down.

Oh well it all starts again tomorrow. Except tomorrow I have to deal with the oil leak in my car! What are you going to do? C’est la vie!

Sunday, May 4, 2008

What is that smell?

How do you keep your home from becoming an over flowing laundry basket? Zan and I spent all day Saturday cleaning the apartment. When I say all day I mean from early morning until 6:30 pm. The reason for the cleaning? We decided to invite some friends over to play with my new obsession, Rock Band. I hate to clean as does my husband. As embarrassing as this is to admit, we can go for weeks without a proper cleaning. It takes inviting people over last minute for us to get our apartment clean. I just can't keep myself on a "cleaning" schedule. I fully understand that by creating a schedule cleaning it would not always seem so overwhelming. I think I must be lacking the domestication gene needed to keep a home.

I love a clean house. There is nothing like the morning after you have cleaned. Waking up knowing there are no dishes stinking up your sink. Or stepping into a clean bath tub knowing there is no mysterious slimy substance waiting to challenge your early morning equilibrium. And yet, neither the stinky dishes or the slimy tub is enough to get me to clean up our apartment on a regular basis. I am like a nasty frat boy living in my own stink and enjoying it. I have become accustom to living in my own filth and I am starting to feel scared! It's cold mom...I...I can't feel my feet...

Truthfully, the state of my home is directionally proportional to my state of mind. And my state o' mind ain't what it once was. But that is what pisses me off! I mean how old am I? I always thought there was this magical age when I would get my shit together. But the joke is on me apparently! There is, of course, no such thing. Just the cold dark reality that when the shit hits the fan my sink starts to reek!

Does anyone else feel this way? Does anyone adhere to some kind of schedule? If so, what is it? How do you keep yourself motivated in order to keep on track? If anyone is reading this leave me a comment with one great tip. Whether or not you currently reside in your own pit of despair, I know you still have one trick for tidying you save for when company is coming over. I try to create a place and space for everything. No matter what I do there is always an area in the apartment that remains cluttered.