Okay so I’m not really the crying type, but if I was, I WOULD BE CRYING RIGHT NOW.
I got home from work and immediately looked at our dining room table (which is one of the amazing ones that folds down to about 1’ wide when not in use—instead of leaves, it makes use of side-panels that fold up into a full dinette). This has been my family’s “invisible corner” since, oh, I don’t know … . based on the mail sitting on the ACTUAL HONEST TO GOD WOOD SURFACE under all the paper, at least November 2011. I had to walk the dogs, but I’ve been using my mom’s plethora of too-flimsy we-got-these-as-a-promotion-from-a-friend-and-I-just-don’t-have-the-heart-to-throw-them-out reusable shopping bags to get crap out of our house (I counted them before I began and we had FORTY-SEVEN of them, 39 of which are not insulated or reinforced to carry anything heavier than a ream of paper), and I was determined to fill a bag and get it the hell out of our living room.
Thus I went on what I call a SEARCH AND DESTROY: this is when you do a 20/10, or a 10/5, or a 45/15, whatever, whose entire purpose is THROW OUT THE SHIT YOU DON’T NEED AND WORRY ABOUT THE REST ON THE NEXT LAP—it’s much easier to sort mail, for example, when your six-month-old expired coupons and receipts are not part of it. I did an S&D on our dining room table and—
—holy shit, seriously—
Two reusable bags and TWO BOXES later, I whipped off the tablecloth, shook it outside, and threw it in the hamper. Then I walked the dogs. Then I came back and went “This just does not look fucking right, okay” and did an S&D on our coffee table (we have an apartment with a living/dining combination).
Then I put down the leaf on the table so it will not be an invisible corner ever, ever again.
There’s now a neat little stack of my mom’s magazines, work papers, and mail about eight inches high and one magazine in circumference, awaiting her return from Houston to go through them.
AND THERE IS AN HONEST TO GOD COFFEE TABLE UNDER THE PAPER, AND HOLY MOTHERFUCK I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR THE WII REMOTE FOR TWO MONTHS, *THAT’S* WHERE IT WAS HIDING.
And just, yeah, I’m forming habits. I just got up to refresh my tea and took a dish with me and I NEVER DO THAT except now I do, apparently, and then I got back and went “As long as I’m standing I might as well take my coin box back to my room” and sorted out the coins I found this week right into their tubes/bags instead of letting them pile up for weeks, and took the box into my room and now the end table is also mostly clean and just—yeah.
This morning I was freaking out, “OH GOD, MOM AND DADDY ARE GOING TO BE HOME IN THREE DAYS AND I HAVE TO—I HAVE TO—I OH GOD I HAVE TO—” and then I walked in the house and looked around.
And the kitchen is mostly-unfucked—all I have to do is wipe the counter from last night’s dinner and put a couple of things in the dishwasher. And the laundry is all put away except what’s dirty, which I can do in two loads today, and even the laundry AREA looks good thanks to a 30/sleep yesterday. And the carpet needs a spritz with Spot Shot in a few areas, but you know my Ask from about two weeks ago, about the carpet being one big potty problem?
I have a confession to make.
I’ve been running our Roomba (which, if you have the money to pick one up, they are AMAZING little motherfuckers) four times a day: back-to-back rounds, one in the morning and one at night.
And yes, the dogs have potty problems, and yes, there are some spots that need to come up.
But … .
After a week of intensive Roomba-ing that is STILL picking up a full canister of hair, dirt, assorted living shit, etc. every time I run it …
Our carpet is A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT COLOUR. All this time I thought it was brown-with-piss-accents.
IT’S CREAM. OUR CARPET IS MOTHERFUCKING *BEIGE.*
So I looked around, and I took stock, and that’s when “I’m not a big crier but if I was—” took over because all I have to do is dust, clean off the end table, do a 20/10 on our bookshelf, do a 20/10 in my bathroom, wipe the kitchen counters, run the dishwasher, AND I’M DONE.
I CAN BE COMPLETELY DONE WITH OUR ENTIRE FUCKING HOUSE IN TWO HOURS. MAYBE LESS.
I’m planning on bed at 9am (it’s currently 8:03). I think I’m going to tackle the bookshelf and then hit the sack. After, that is, I throw some cleaner in my toilet bowl. The rest of the bathroom is gonna have to wait til this afternoon, because I’m out of vinegar.
And just, yeah. Now I actually am crying a little. You have no idea, UfYH lady. YOU HAVE NO IDEA.
I feel this is necessary.