Saturday, June 19, 2010
Tall Skinny Half Caff Manic Saturday With Extra Foam
Pick your poison, and Moxie up!
The kicker with blogging about cleaning is that I have often gotten up to use the bathroom, and then cleaned half the house before I sit down to peck out some words of encouragement and my certifiable lists, and sometimes pictures. (Like "sometimes y.")
Speaking of pictures, I tend to forget to take "befores" since one's natural inclination is not to immortalize shit hole disasters, and because I usually head full-throttle into those tasks and then the "afters" fail to impress.
But I do have some meager offerings, to showcase a little bit of a day in the life.
This, this is prize-winning. As you know, I wake up and clean in my underwear. It's less cumbersome, it's cooler, or because I've got it so bad I can't stop to put on pants. But, as I've mentioned, I have unwittingly answered the door in my underwear on a couple of occasions, so I bought some black shorts at Old Navy. Problem solved. This happened the first time I wore them, a few days ago, and it's the only time I've ever been bested by bleach:
I was really pissed about this. These cost $7.00 or something, but that's not the point. The one time I go out of my way to clean in modesty wear, and it gets the hose again. It's the principle. But then everyone reminded me 100 times that they were purchased as "cleaning shorts," because there is no way in HELL I would wear shorts in public, so then I was 3% less pissed. In any event, I kicked some heavyweight ass that day in spite of my bleach bath. I stripped everything in the house down to its bones, and cleaned it all back together.
Laundry sorter skeleton:
Drawers that become totally incestuous no matter what you do. Gotta straighten those out:
Playing cupid with a nightmare chip/everything cupboard and my trusty wire caddies:
All done: (You have to be looking for something to fully appreciate their affair.)
So there are some images of gittin' jiggy wit Moxie, and there's more in store for today, though I've had the house in a continuous detox/cleanse for weeks, so I don't resemble some first-on-the-scene Haitian Relief Worker like I usually do on Saturdays, which my back will be glad to hear.
-Ate, made coffee.
-Wiped counter tops.
-Emptied wastebaskets and garbage.
-Pieced together one full load of laundry. Yep.
-Assembled outgoing mail.
-Touched a few less desirable tasks to make sure I didn't dream them. (They're real.)
-Re-stocked the t.p., napkins, paper towels, etc.
-Started dusting blinds in the bathroom, which will be wiped down and swept later.
Soon to get the smack down:
-Fold laundry dregs, put it away.
-Stare at my clothing rack and say "What.The.Fuck? Why are you always full?" And then hang it all up in my closet. I dread this. What can I say? I am Old Navy's bitch.
-Wipe down dining/schooling/only place with chairs area. We have four birthdays plus Fathers Day tomorrow. I'm assuming we'll need the table.
-Grab a shovel and head to the dual vanity in the master bedroom. Good god. No, I can't even take a picture. Adolescence has essentially blown up on my side. You know it's bad when your 'to-be-sewn' heap is so high it's nice to have your make-up nestled atop it because you're tall and it's easy to reach. Everyone has his or her own soap, deodorant, hair gel (she for frizz, he for spike), flat irons, lotion, and earrings, and apparently my side of the vanity had a huge WELCOME mat on it, which was invisible to me. I love that my kids are well-groomed, and that one always hands the other a flosser, but like, some goddamned elbow room, just once! Or please leave the straightener on when you can see I'm fighting a serious crimp. Most importantly, line your shit up like soldiers, like your mamacita, or go move into Papa's side, which is also more like a barracks. So yeah, this project has all the come hither allure of the Wicked Witch from Snow White.
-Keep rearranging my room to figure out which five things are the right things. This room is like Sudoku for the minimalist mind. The whole table with one flower and a water bottle and eternal OCD bliss fantasy is pure horse shit. It ain't gonna happen. Not as long as there are flip flops, books, coins (!!!), Sharpies, gum, lotion, lotion, gum, remotes, iPods, and phones. I challenge anyone to come figure this out. It's fun in a deep-paper-cut-between-your-fingers way.
-The exterior windows.
-All mirrors. (In which to seeeee the crimps.)
-Spend 20 minutes in the kids' room. Quinn outgrew ALL his Levi's again. No, again-again. He now wears size 20 skinny jeans. In contrast, Reilly's skinnies are size 7. They are so opposite I'm surprised one of them wasn't born black.
-Wipe down entertainment area, including cords, the wall, the clock, and the shelving above.
-Assemble my new file thing.
-Dust one side to the other.
-Clock out, thank my back for lasting another day.
What say you?
-Dishes? Doesn't stop there doontcha knoo. Counters, appliances, cupboard faces, and floors.
-De-clutter each room.
-Dispose of trash in each room.
-Wipe down all possible surfaces.
-Wipe down kitchen/bathrooms, polish chrome fixtures, and hang clean towels.
-Clean windows. Do it, you'll get hooked like meth, only you'll keep your teeth!
-Hang all coats in closets, clothes in bedrooms, and fold blankets.
-Wipe down computers/computer areas.
-Don't forget Fathers Day! I was so organized I tried celebrating it last week, so I brought Todd a tiramisu, which, by some miracle, didn't go to waste, but now the kids and I have to do something different. I once knew someone who cheated on the person she was with to have sex with her ex as a Fathers Day gift. Isn't that a kick? Pretty original I thought, though Todd would rather have the tiramisu than her. Or MRSA.
Sarah you had better be finishing up Caleb's room, and you can use my shovel for Maddie's! But you must send pics or you have to stop using Moxie as a verb, lol. I want to prance you around, and also, shut up about your margaritas!!!
Okay ready set go and all the usual shit. Clean it up!