I hope it’s not too late to join in. I’m very impressed with the enthusiasm and progress everyone is making here, and hope I can benefit from it.
My problem (Ha! As if there were only one) is that I’m a lazy perfectionist with a streak of over-achiever-ness. If it can’t be perfect, I don’t bother. Plus we’re both packrats. And slobs. And very busy. With a little apartment. And three cats. And I’m a devout cheapskate.
While we’re at it – I’m also just ever so slightly whiny.
So . . .
Today, I swept & mopped the kitchen, cleaned out the dishwasher, wiped down counters & the stove. Then I made breakfast (mushroom omelets, fresh squeezed OJ & homemade cinnamon rolls. Did I mention the over-achiever part? ), cleaned out the dishwasher, wiped down counters & the stove, then lunch (The Habit-style chicken sandwiches) cleaned out the dishwasher, wiped down counters & the stove. While running 6 loads of laundry (folded, but not put away), vacuumed the living room, cleaned the cat boxes (downstairs was changed, upstairs just scooped), made the bed (Yay for clean sheets), Comet-ed the shower (I’m not thinking about caulk. I’m just not.) & both toilets, windexed the bathroom mirrors, dusted the TVs, gave the Old Cat his pills, vacuumed the living room again, ironed (but not put away) this weeks work wardrobe, and went to the grocery store.
Dear Og, I’m tired. I will make dinner and clean the damn kitchen yet again, but I REALLY don’t want to. There is still shit piled on every flat surface – except the kitchen counters and stove. The office has a path to the desk, there is no room in the drawers or closets to put away our clean clothes, and I will, yet again, transfer the giant pile of crap from the table to whichever almost empty space I can find, so that we can eat dinner before I clean that miserable kitchen again.
Somebody, please, lie to me. Tell me that 15 minutes a day, every day, will make this place habitable by civilized humans, and allow me to sleep in once a week. Please?
Tomorrow, I will make breakfast, clean the stupid kitchen, give the cat his pill, go to work, make dinner, give the cat his pill, clean the fucking kitchen, and put all the shoes (currently in a pile beside the back door) in the closet where they belong. That’s my goal for Monday – to put away shoes.