I bear wings and a chux. I am the cleaning fairy! But my magic is lost.
I’m normally a cleaning freak. I’ll clean in places most people wouldn’t think about. I’ll get on my hands and knees to scrub a small bathroom floor because I want to know it’s clean, I’ll want to see it sparkle. I’ll clean before the cleaner comes. I’ll clean something while I’m using it (showers for example). I like clean. My former partner-in-crime didn’t understand. Yes, I will go ballistic if there is a grain of salt on the kitchen bench that I, not five minutes ago, cleaned to pristine perfection.
I’d like to add that I do not have obsessive compulsive disorder. Otherwise my current situation would not arise.
I can’t find motivation to clean my own quarters. Yet, yesterday I went to a friends house and did a weeks worth of her dishes and folded her laundry, all the while she told me off. It’s not the first time I’ve done that to her. I used to sneak into her house and mop her floor (it was sticky and I couldn’t handle it), do her dishes, do her laundry. I’ve cleaned things in other peoples houses that irked me while their backs were turned. I scrutinise the efforts (or lack of) of the cleaners at work. I like clean!
But why is it my bathroom is filthy? Why is it that after living in this house for at least 2 months I am yet to clean it AT ALL? There’s dust and fluff and a gecko’s tail on the floor being eaten by ants and I just stare at it while I’m on the toilet. My bedroom floor has seen a broom once since moving in. The shower glass has a build up of soap scum. The sink is speckled with mud. Dust is collecting in the toothbrush holder along with 10 cents.
And so, while I have the time to clean all this, I am on the computer... writing a blog... and trolling Facebook. And I feel like I’ve kept my wings but I am no longer a fairy, I am a pig. A procrastinating pig.
If anyone out there happens to find my motivation, my magic, please send it back. I have to have this house clean by Friday morning!