Sunday, August 28, 2011

The life of a gold-digger, part 62

Thursday is the best of times and the worst of times.

It's the best of times because on Thursday, I don't go to the gym.

I "run" instead.


It's the worst of times because Thursday is the day I clean the house.

And I hate cleaning the house.

When I lived in Memphis, cleaning the house was a piece of cake:

1. I lived alone
2. I didn't have cats
3. I had a cleaning lady

Now, I

1. Have a husband who sheds
2. Have two cats who shed
3. Am the cleaning lady, which means I am not a very good gold-digger because any gold-digger worth her salt would have household help.

SH has more hair on his body than I do and it regenerates. He has more stuff than I do. He is pickier about his stuff than I am, which means I do not have the authority to discard the pre-race instructions for the ill-fated half marathon we did in July. The race has been over for more than a month, but maybe we should hold on to the registration materials because YOU NEVER KNOW.

The cats shed. Constantly. Except in the winter, which is the only - the only - good thing I can think of to say about winter. So much for a non-shedding breed.

SH told me once that it was not necessary for me to clean the house every week so I said fine, I won't and let's see what happens, shall we?

It takes only a week for cobwebs to appear on the stairs and under the kitchen cupboards. These cobwebs capture cat hair. In one week.

Now go two weeks without vacuuming and industrious spiders and shedding cats.

The house looked like a spookhouse.

I will also note that the act of washing one's body in the shower does not also clean the tub. That is, the soap leaving one's body does not act as a cleaning agent on the tile and the porcelain.

Instead, the soap leaving one's body collects dirt and body oils and adheres to everything it touches as it washes its merry way into the sewer system, where it waits for a good rainfall so it can climb back up into our basement and soak the carpet.

Sticky soap residue also attracts dirt.

SH was surprised at how dirty the tub got, although he should not have been as it was not his habit to clean his bathroom every week when he lived alone.

Although - when he lived alone, he was not in the habit of bathing every day. It's one of those hazards that goes with working from home.

Tish warns us about being complacent in our grooming working at home. She is correct.

I hate housecleaning, but I hate a dirty house even more, so I have developed some strategies to make it not so burdensome.

Perhaps you can use these strategies in your own home.

Actually, it is one strategy.

I bribe myself with sweet stuff.

To get myself to vacuum the basement stairs, which comes after vacuuming the kitchen, bedroom, hall and bathroom (the living room and the dining room are off-limits to the cats, which means they get vacuumed only when we have company, as I am content to ignore the cobwebs if it is just moi sitting in there reading - it's not like I can see them without my glasses, anyhow), and after washing the kitchen floor and after cleaning the tub and the toilet and the sink and doing three loads of laundry -

sheesh, I hate cleaning the house

I go to the car, open the trunk, and remove a few or more than a few Jordan almonds (don't you keep your candy in the trunk? what happens if you're out and you get really hungry? then what?) and any chocolate mints that happen to be sticking to them (the sticking can happen when it is 95 degrees the day before, even if the candy is in the little cooler you keep in the trunk) and eat them.

Once fortified, I find I can complete the odious stair vacuuming task.

It takes pear tart to clean the stove. Peach cobbler to make the bed.

I haven't folded the clean clothes yet.

I think I might have some frozen custard.

1 comment:

Jennifer (Jen on the Edge) said...

I am of the opinion that holding onto useless papers is pointless, so unless my husband files his crappe away, I recycle it all.