PROOF: I can clean!
I thought it’d be fun if I made a time lapse video of cleaning my office.
CLEARLY I HAVE LOST ALL COMPREHENSION OF WHAT IS FUN.
#1 – CLEANING IS NOT FUN
#2 – WATCHING someone clean is ALSO NOT FUN.
But I did capture my progress anyway, because once I get an idea in my head…. fugghedaboutit.
That’s my office/guest room.
Our guests have to “sleep” on a foldaway.
It’s like a right of passage. You haven’t fully LIVED until you’ve had to sleep on a foldaway.
It makes me feel good to know I am helping fulfill rights of passages.
I am going to point out the fact that I have a pink/peachish dresser with teal accents in my office.
I know it does not match my red wall.
It was my childhood dresser.
Peach and teal was HOT in the 80’s.
And it’s a really cool dresser and SOMEDAY I will paint it a color I am not yet certain of.
Two hours in and I’ve made some progress… and Lucy found project to work on.
Let’s take something out while mommy is cleaning…
Now Kevin wants in on the action. He’s in the way more than the three kids combined.
I have a dog that thinks he’s human.
When the kids are at school Kevin often joins me in my office. He usually sleeps on my feet under my desk.
Which is actually rather nice.
Crazy dog. I kinda think he’s kinda cool.
EXCEPT THAT WHEN I DROVE UP THIS AFTERNOON HE STOOD IN THE YARD WITH HALF A RAT HANGING OUT OF HIS MOUTH.
By this point Olivia joined me in my office. She’s watching something on the iPad.
WHICH HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH CLEANING.
I am so alone.
But I aaaaaam making progress, even if it’s hard to tell by the picture, and even though no one is helping me…
I worked from 1 to 6 p.m. Sure, I facebooked and drank coffee and helped decorate a cape and stuff, BUT STILL.
I got to a point where… where… well… where I can now go into my office without crying.
Confession: I can’t think when things are too messy.
And sometimes messes make me cry.
Because I can’t think.
And when I can’t think…. I CRY.
It’s a vicious cycle, really.
I have tried and tried and tried to be OK with mess… and I can’t.
I just can’t.
A clean space is my happy place.
It could be cleaner/organizeder… That basket on the pink/peachish dresser is full of 2011/2012 schoolwork from the kids… to sort… burn?
The bag next to the basket is a gift for a friend I should have mailed over a month ago.
How do I even have friends anymore?
And I didn’t do much to my desk except move papers around to different, more organized “feeling” piles.
There’s a lot of thinking and strategerizing that happens when one cleans one’s office space… bills to pay, papers to file, documents to shred… business cards to put somewhere, notes from the kids to feel guilty about tossing or not framing, cords, cords, cords… pencils without erasers…
At one point Lucy looked up at me and said, “MOM.” (She speaks in all caps. Really.) “LIVI AND I DECIDED WE WANT TO KEEP THE HOUSE ALWAYS CLEAN. WE WILL ALWAYS PUT ALL OUR STUFF AWAY.”
And within 10 minutes… let’s just say there are countless popped balloons and toothpicks all over my front porch.
…so if you come for a visit —–>>> WEAR SHOES.
And remember, we can always pull out the fold away.
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