The Strange and Wonderful Joy I get out of Housework
For the past nine months I have been cleaning the house sans help. We are doing this partly to save money and partly because the wonderful lady helping us had to leave the country and I can't be bothered to get someone else in. I actually enjoy doing housework and do a little every day anyway so I didn't think it would be such a big deal.
At first it was all going smoothly. I had a schedule and I stuck to it. Then I found that the more I cleaned the more I needed to clean. (For example, I couldn't clean the kitchen counter tops without also doing the floors, the surfaces of the cupboards, the inside of the fridge... you get the idea...)
Then I found myself devoting a ridiculous 3+ hours a day to cleaning the house. B would look at me in astonishment. It was like I was a cleaning robot- incapable of doing anything else! I carried on like this for about three months. Then I burned out and completely let things go and only did about 20 minutes of cleaning a day (which for me wasn't really that bad... I just didn't do the details like clean the inside of the fridge... you get the idea...)
Where am I going with this? Oh yes. So today I had the day off and was in the mood to clean again. It was a glorious stormy, turbulent day in Santa Monica (very rare) so I lit the fire, played Anthea Turner Perfect Housewife on DVD in the background (you want to see a show that will motivate you to clean? This is the one!), and have made my home completely spotless for the past 5 hours (taking breaks in between, of course). I'm not sure what perverse pleasure I get out of doing this... but I think it has to do with wanting to live well and living well for me means looking at sparkling taps, gleaming floors and a gorgeously made bed...
I would love to know... do you get a kick out of cleaning?
Pictured above are my beloved pink gloves that I wear while cleaning- a very thoughtful present from my sister (Thanks L!)