Cleaning is something I have always been bad at. It isn’t that I can’t or don’t know how to do it – I was taught how to cook, clean and sew from an early age – it’s simply that I don’t want to. Well, that isn’t totally true – I keep myself, the cats and my clothes clean, but when it comes to daily organisation I am distinctly lethargic.
I’ve always been this way. I think it stems from watching my mother obsessively clean the house on a daily basis – she was desperately unhappy for most of our childhood, using cleaning as a way of having some sort of control in our household, and would often spend her cleaning sessions shouting at us to do various chores, which she would then do inevitably again after we had finished because we hadn’t done it properly. Cleaning was always a negative experience, and this mentality has followed me into adulthood.
That, and I’m admittedly just plain lazy.
The Bloke is the opposite and does the day-to-day maintenance of the chores, while I do the cooking, which I am very grateful for. However, he finds it very frustrating at times – I am capable of destroying a newly cleaned room in a matter of minutes, and while I never intentionally set out to undo all his good work, I often have to retrace my steps and pick up after myself when I realise the chaos that I have caused.
However, every so often I will bite the proverbial bullet, make a list and blitz my way through the house.
After having to work on a number of my days off this year, my headteacher had very graciously granted me a couple of days in lieu last week and I couldn’t be more grateful. For the first time in a while, I had a little bit of time to myself.
I took my mum to the station after she had spent the weekend, and when I got home I realised just how much stuff needed sorting out. The house isn’t filthy by any means, but everywhere I looked I could see lots of small jobs that have been ignored because my heavy work commitments meant that I have lived in a state of simple existence over the last few weeks.
I decided to do something about it. We are in the middle of a heatwave here in the UK, so lots of clean washing went on the line outside. I dusted, vacuumed, organised and shredded months of out-of-date paperwork. My clothes were hung in the wardrobe. My chest of drawers were put in order. The bathroom and kitchen underwent a deep clean. Even the cats reluctantly received a brush.
Six hours later, I sat down in my living room with sore feet, an aching back and, more importantly, a sense of feeling lighter than I have been in a long time, and I’m determined to do some more later on. I’m not sure how long this temporary urge to clean will last, but I’ll certainly go with it while I can!
What about you guys? Do you enjoy being a domestic god/goddess or do you begrudgingly do what you have to as quickly as you can?
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