Category Archives: cleaning

Too Much?

I am not sure where I got this from, but I have lived for a very long time with the idea that I must do everything, and do it well. Anything short of perfect is failure. For years I have been successful at balancing my life between work, school, family, and everything else. Which made it very difficult to admit that I am overwhelmed. Almost as if every semester brings on a new level of stress (yes, I live my life in semesters), adding a little bit more every time, unnoticeable at first, until I look back to a year ago and realize my workload and responsibilities, even outside of school, have tripled.

So I stopped sleeping, stopped functioning properly, and I think even my body is reacting to and rebelling against it. My hair either started falling out, or I am pulling it out, not sure. Thankfully I have plenty of it. But even more difficult is admitting to myself that I need to ask for help. I cannot in fact do it all, and somehow that is going to have to be okay.

What can I offload somewhere? Well, work is work, school is school, my kids are a priority, and the list continues with things that I can’t give up, and can’t really get help with.

I looked around and realized what I need help with is where I live. It is a mess. I mean, it is not dirty, since I am never home to get anything dirty. I guess that is a perk of being at work seventy hours per week. There are still stacks of things on the floor, things that need to be put away, an infinite amount of clothes, shoes, books, and general stuff, and I have a very finite amount of storage space. As in, none.

Tomorrow I am seeing Mary, and picked a place down the street to have dinner. We were all excited and she was going to come over for the first time. I panicked. Where do I shove everything? Well, she will want to see the rooms, so piling the kids’ room ceiling high won’t work. This is a project I was going to undertake during winter break, but now, now it needs to get done. There was a time in my life when people would randomly show up at my house, and I would open the door with snacks and coffee and drinks. Now I stand by the door, blocking entry to everyone but Tanya, afraid to let anyone see how the person they all believed to be so put together has privately fallen apart.

Mary wanted to change venues, and we are actually going to meet in the valley. Crisis averted. But it made me realize where I can actually get help. So, after I (finally!) get everything in order, and put things where they belong to where I won’t barricade my door in terror at the idea of someone seeing what I have done (or haven’t been doing), I am going to get a cleaning lady once a month.

Yes, I am a woman, and I have lived my life believing that as a woman I have to keep house. That is my domain, and even if I can’t do anything else, I need to be domestic. Which is why it was so hard to come to terms with the fact that that is exactly what I haven’t been doing, and even harder to accept that I need help with it. How can I need help with something I was born to do? Ultimate failure. And I have to deal with this, move on, and hire a cleaning lady.

Again, I am never home, so as long as I lightly maintain the cleaning she will do once a month, everything should be fine, and I can open my doors to friends and family (my mother has not set foot in my house, partly because she doesn’t drive freeways, and partly because she is highly judgmental and I will never hear the end of it).

In February I will get hired help. In the meantime I will figure out where to put everything. I don’t want her to clean around my piles. Buying some furniture to put things on and into would probably help.

And with the idea of asking for help, if anyone speaks Swedish, Finish, Dutch, Danish, or Norwegian, I have some bookcases that will need assembly…

Shiny Black Box

Tonight I was cleaning the house, and the TV had some smudges on it. I quickly got out the Windex and sprayed it all over the screen. As I was wiping it down I realized I didn’t know whether or not I should have sprayed Windex on the TV. Is there a proper way of cleaning a TV? I have sprayed Windex and other cleaners on it before, but I never really thought about it. You see, I have never actually owned a TV. They have just sort of been brought into my life.

When I had my own apartment I never had a TV and never thought I needed it. Aside from when I used to live at my parents’ house, these things always came with men. Or rather the men came with them. I am beginning to think they are like a standard feature that all men come with. I can almost hear the voice announcing what kind of TV your man will bring into your life.

Maybe that is how you are supposed to pick a man. Sony or Panasonic? 42 inch or 38 inch HD? The funny thing is, I don’t care. I never had one because I never had an interest in one. They just magically appeared next to the couch, I would shrug, and then later spray Windex all over them.

However, this is not to say I don’t enjoy them. If they are there, and not otherwise occupied, I like them enough to watch. I have never been motivated enough to get my own, but when possible I used to sneak in episodes of Jeopardy, and there was a time I loved Desperate Housewives. In fact, there is a list of things I want to one day watch, including all of the seasons of Alias because I love Jennifer Garner, and Xena because it was my favorite show growing up. One day these things will happen. In the meantime I will try not to bleach the TV.

P.S. Remote controls also need to have far fewer buttons. Like three. Three is good.

Stuff Recap

I know, I have been terrible about doing a recap for all the posts I have written elsewhere. In my defense, I have been too busy recently to write for anywhere except A Nervous Tic, so my articles have not been spread out every which way. Which is by the way the way the worst defense ever. Thank God I never attempted law school.

For your viewing pleasure I will link all my Nervous Tic articles since our last recap.

Energy Shortage

The Golden Age of Glory

Rejection is sad

Bra Shopping: It’s Complicated

A letter to my duck…

Oh The Frustration!

Fashionably Fantasizing

I need to learn how to read…¬†among¬†other thing…

A letter to Taylor Swift

Pretty Little Liar

Cleaning Catharsis