Sunday, January 24, 2010

Monday Times Five

I've worked up a little cleaning routine based on my obsession with fives. Today's goal is simple: Five tasks, each involving five things.

Some suggestions:

-Fold five loads of laundry.

-Vacuum five sections of carpet.

-Dust the five most prominent surfaces.

-Rid your purse of five unused things.

-Put five things on your calendar.

-Consolidate five Post-Its onto one list.

-Windex five mirrors/windows.

-Sweep five floors.

-Wash five mats.

-Do dishes in five minute increments until they're done!

-Make five ugh-type phone calls. (If you have five of those, I am sad for you.)

-Remove five errant pieces of crap lying around.

-De-clutter for five minutes.

-Drink five cups of coffee.

-Find someone to high-five.

Do any five of these, and you're off to an excellent start.


  1. I'm down with high-fiving and... yeah, that's about it.

  2. i bleached 3 sinks and did 2 loads of laundry, that equals 5. i drank 2 cups of tea, took out one bag of recycling, and will change sheets on 2 beds, that equals 5. i will fold one load of laundry, make one phone call, do dishes, and pick up at least 2 errant pieces of crap, that equals 5.

  3. Debe-Did it take you all five fingers to burn down that kitchen? Now that is thinking outside the box.

    Gail-Definitely an A for effort, but you're totally taking advantage of our friendship by pulling off that incongruent assortment of fives. No rhyme nor reason, just dishes + garbage + tea + Elmo + one phone call = 5? Hmmm...if I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to get my OCD all *Jacked* up. Nah, good job. Now off to Google and post all the best images before you do. <3

    As for me, um, well I'm neck-deep in the aftermath of burning Susannah's kitchen down last night. It's a little more than I candle to have a fleet of women come in and take the coat off my back and UGGs off my feet and swear to have them clean and de-smoked by Thursday. What? OCD people don't fork over their premium, or in my case, only outerwear, in hopes of getting it back in brand-spanking-new condition in two days, during which I will freeze my ass off unless I want to drive 12,000 miles to get another coat. We're not allowed to clean anything, anything, which is so counter-intuitive my head is about to explode. So, that's what I'm up to. Shaking my head, contrition even though it was officially ruled not our fault, and of course, random LOUD burst of laughter, of Pentecostal proportions. Go. Clean. Love it.