Please, someone console Debe in her grief over the absence of clip art in today's post...and then kindly remind her that her hateful, bi-polar phone is the reason my features are so limited. Perhaps we our next restaurant will have paper place mats and crayons so I can draw her a picture.
I have come to a teensy measurement of terms with the fact that I have virtually no control over my house while I travel. I employed a technique known as Radical Acceptance, something which will enable me to get home alive but which is far too dangerous a potion for those for whom cleaning is not a lifelong sickness, er, passion.
-Never surrender to the dishes nor the laundry. Could you really live with yourself having to confess "I was defeated by some towels and plates?" No. You mustn't. I for one would laugh and point forever.
-Wipe down five things your children touch most, be it a Little Tykes car or the bathroom.
-Wash all bedspreads and/or comforters. Yes I realize this = more laundry = misery but they need it. They are commonly neglected.
-Wipe down one bathroom.
-Really really really clean your computer area. Stack things, pitch them, shred them, consolidate lists, spray a little Windex on a paper towel and clean your screen, clean cords--they're unsightly, restock paper, gather scattered writing utensils...okay you get it. Make it a place of serenity (no sand zen gardens!) So that you can fuck off on facebook with less guilt.
-If you have.stairs, sweep/vacuum/lint roll them. If you do not, high five!
-Clean out one more cupboard. For those who remember Jacob's magnificent coup in his pantry (see older posts), you know this is not insurmountable.
-Wipe down/dust/wash the largest piece of furniture you own. Get creative. Send pictures.
-Please text me and tell me if Starbucks sells some shitty espresso in a can (puke) that is NOT sweet!
Wake me when we get there.