There is nothing worse than
good planning gone wrong...
Nothing quite as disappointing
as seeing positive intentions
steer a little wayward
onto the path of negative results.
It's been that way for me this week.
On Sunday, I vowed that my entire week
would be set aside for Spring Cleaning.
That I would make lists
and check them off one by one
till everything had it's place
and sparkled like cheap glitter.
I'm on my third list.
Not that List 1 and List 2 were completed-
It's because they were misplaced.
And the reason I misplaced my cleaning list
is because I need to clean.
Make sense?
By yesterday afternoon,
I just said heck to the list
and dived into a giant basket of paperwork.
Is it really necessary to keep my
electric bill from last October?
Or credit card offers with 30% interest?
Coupons for food I'll never buy,
clothes I'll never wear,
or fundraisers I'll never win?
Gum wrappers?
Floss?
And all the other crap that seems to
accumulate in the
"I Don't Know What The Hell To Do With This" pile.
I managed to rid myself of a trash bag of paper,
and it felt good to reduce the pile of folders
to a stack that wouldn't require a wagon
to transport across the room.
Of course, eventually, there will be
something in that refuse pile
that I will need
and I'll be sorry I ever started
messing with my perfectly good
unorganized filing system.
I got the toilets cleaned, too.
Pretty much.
Couldn't find my bleach,
so resorted to the old stand-by-
Ajax.
It's gritty texture was like running my nails
across a poopy blackboard.
And after that, I called it a day
even though it wasn't quite noon yet.
I needed space.
To chill.
To breathe.
To curse that darn inventor
of multitasking.
Then I saw the weather report
and realized that if I didn't
get the yard mowed,
I might have to hire a bush hog
after the next three days of rain-
or sharpen a machete to find the mailbox.
Yet, of all my many chores,
I love mowing the best.
I strap my MP3 player onto my arm,
turn it up full volume,
and get lost in a world of music.
While riding the mower yesterday,
I almost had myself convinced
that I could and should and would
take piano lessons.
That in my old age,
I could sit in my glittery clean house
and compose songs at my Baldwin piano
while sipping Geritol margaritas.
Sweet thought.
But, then again,
once the yard was mowed
and the garage locked up
and I faced the never ending pile
of laundry that tripped me
in the hallway,
learning music seemed like
a non-priority item.
There was still vacuuming,
dusting, and mopping to do.
Which I call DMV for short.
I know these three should be
done every day,
but hey- it's my house.
If I wanna draw pictures in the dust-
who's to deny me that guilty pleasure?
Then there was folding,
stacking, moving, peeling,
calling, sorting, washing,
hauling, changing, tightening,
loosening, measuring, tossing,
making, rinsing, cleaning,
scrubbing, wiping, sweeping,
watching, hanging and hiding.
Whew!
Made me tired just thinking about it.
But, I suppose I have a few more days
to make good on my vow.
It's totally possible to get my Spring Cleaning
semi-completed before the weekend.
Maybe.
If my nap doesn't interfere.
Now...
hummmm...
Where's that list?
