I used to be meticulous about things when I thought that so much more really mattered in life. Now I believe the things that matter are less tangible (love, laughter, happiness) and therefore I pass up the “opportunity” to clean for a chance to snuggle up with the Mr.
But that night, the dog and husband seemed perfectly relaxed, but I was in a tizzy. Battling a cold/sinus whatever it was, and feeling the stress of returning from a trip, I noticed that the house was picked up and “clean”, but it still felt dingy. I am thoroughly for deep Spring cleaning, but I was not going to wait until March to do something about it. I decided my “what am I going to do about this” was to do a quick clean of the bathroom, wiping down the mirror, sink, toilet, and tub, and then I’d make some hot tea, and draw a hot bath. As I relaxed in the hot water, the dingy corners of the bathroom taunted me and pointed their dirty finger nail fingers at me. The bath could come later. I needed to dig deeper.
Who knew that bleach could be so therapeutic? As I spray spray spray sprayed the floor with a self-concocted mix of bleach and door-to-door salesman “pump it off” cleaner, I noticed the 60’s era tiles brightening. I spray spray sprayed some more, and scrubbed the rag as hard as I could in the corners. I dipped cotton balls in bleach, and let them soak in the corners of the bathroom (the figurative dirty finger nails) and scrubbed until my eyes burned and my bathroom smelled like the co-ed bathroom in my college dorm. (Yes, a cleaning crew came in to clean it… there is NO WAY any of us would clean with bleach in college while we were so *ahem* busy studying.)
The whole house smelled of bleach, which I considered a good thing. It meant I had been hard at work. The bathroom might not have looked different to anyone else, but it’s me who has to see it daily.
I’m not going to clean my bathroom that well for a long time. Let’s just face the facts. I don’t like cleaning, but I love when the house is clean. As mentioned before, I can find many better things to do with my time.I think between now and then, I need to work up a really good argument to convince my husband we need a cleaning lady.
