I've had a serious case of the blahs lately. You should have seen the dishes stacked up on the counter...the cat couldn't get up to the food bowl (it's on the counter so Naomi doens't help herself to it 500 times a day) for an entire morning and I couldn't figure out why she was so cranky. We had laundry and trash coming out of our ears. I couldn't bring myself to lift a finger for two weeks. To the untrained eye (meaning, on the normal side of neat), you would have not noticed much difference bewteen my mess a month ago and my mess before my cleaning bonanza last weekend. To me, the mess went from borderline bearable (enough clean plates, forks, underwear and clothes, but non-food trash and dirty laundry and toys strewn all over the place) to crazy making mess. Old hardened fruit in the upholstery, 3 days of take-out trash on the dining room table, nothing to eat with or on, nothing to wear, sheets that stink, cat box overflowing. One cannot walk normally in a house like this. You have to take care where you put your feet so you son't step in a forgotten pile of cat vomit.
So last weekend, we extracted 18 full trash bags from our house, about half of it from our bedroom, which hasn't been cleaned sicne Naomi started talking. I washed and put away 13 full loads of laundry. I ran the dishwasher twice before I could see the countertop again.
I'm on a roll now with the house. I've been obsessively sorting, purging, and listmaking. I folded all of our sheets and put them away in a special place I made in Josh's closet (I finally decided to have more than one set of sheets in the house. Usually we just use one set until they fall apart from filth and then we buy a new set.)
In the interest of Preventing This From Ever Happening Again, I bought the collapsible mesh hampers with lids that zip shut so I can fill them with clothes and throw them down to the basement. Much better than carrying bulky baskets down three flights of steep 19th century stairs. I have a fear of falling, breaking my neck, and dying under a pile of my own dirty underwear, so I procrastinate about the laundry as long as possible. Thanks to my new mesh throwables, NO MORE! My mind is spinning with clever storage solutions I can implement. My IKEA list is a mile long.
This is a familiar cycle for me. How many times have I gone on housekeeping kicks before? And I'm still the messiest person I know by a long shot. I'm probably among the messiest people anyone knows. My tolerence for grossness is legendary.
In my coffeehouse days, I would invite people up to my apartment to show them the mess. Back then, it was punk rock. Now it's just anti-social.
I hope this time I can make it stick. I know if I love and care for where I live, I feel better in general. As a person constantly fighting a low grade depression, having a messy house is very self-defeating. It's a constant reminder of my inability to function like everyone else.
Midwinter is usually a bad time for my mental health. I was doing okay this year until we got the flu last week and the stagnation started to turn into depression. When I found myself heading in the other direction to avoid talking to someone I know, I realized it was time for some damage control. Hence the cleaning. And the running. I'm getting back to that too.