I woke this AM with a feeling of impending doom hanging over my hapless head. I checked the ceiling. No sword of Damocles hung above me. The sun coming in my window looked positively seductive, as if Helios were saying, “Hi, Fair–wanna ride in my chariot this AM?”
And then I remembered. I had a date with a sinkful of dishes, a vacuum cleaner, a Swiffer(tm), and some elbow grease.
I was commencing spring cleaning.
I should explain that this project has been ongoing for some ten years now, off more often than on. Instead of thinking “one room at a time”–and at that, not a whole room at a time; some of the stuff that needs doing really is a task best spread out over several days, if not weeks–I tend to look to the end result, and get discouraged at what labors lie before me, and quit before I’m fairly started.
Today, though, I made a plan. Our house, a collection of vagaries rather than rooms, has two kitchens, and I attacked the one with the sink, the washing machine, and what passes for my pantry first. One task at a time: I finished one before proceeding to the next. I played music, loud and rhythmic, and while I mopped, I danced.
AND I GOT THAT ROOM DONE!
It’s amazing, the transformation; there’s a place for everything instead of a hodgepodge here and an anomalous object there, and a lot of things for which we had no need whatsoever are bagged up and ready to go to the dump. And, instead of thinking about how much is left to do, I’m reveling in this finished result.
And, when I sing, I’m loving the acoustics.
Next up, the bathroom.
Although for that one, I should really call in a HazMat team.
Or put the St. Bernards on standby.
Wish me luck! 😀