Yes, I am still alive!!! I have not been this far behind with my every day life, in decades. I have started a blog, regarding the reason I have assumed I am totally screwed up, but, apparently I am so screwed, I haven't even managed to finish that!!
My children have left home, I have an amazing partner, a dog, and a job, this is what I have been waiting for since my 20's, this is the time of life I figured I would do amazing things, with all the freedom after child rearing , Hah!!!I must have missed some step along the way, the organization factor, now, although I have this "spare" time, it is filled with crap, and I am simply going backwards.I hate myself!!! I wander about, looking at all I have to do, and it overwhelms me. I so want my house to be neat and tidy. I want the freedom of never having to worry when someone surprises me with a visit, that clutter reigns. I want surfaces cleaned, I want all seating areas to be free of objects, I want toilets to shine, floors to glow, and cobwebs to disappear. My windows should be a source of pride, as they overlook incredible views. None of this is happening! I spend at least one of my days off, doing housework (without pay) and I should really use every single moment.
Now, at this moment, the house is clean, not to the standard I wish it was, but to something acceptable. I still have the urge to throw everything out, except the furniture, but I am trying to control myself. In the perfect world, I would have a home that is bare basics. I don't mind pictures on the wall, and stuff hidden in closets and drawers, but for some ungodly reason, I can't stand anything else. The worst part, my life has been filled with too much stuff! Kid's toys, papers (my biggest downfall and peeve) clothing, footwear, tools, and now, pet toys. I don't collect things (besides the frigging papers) but, still, my house is filled with clutter.
Oh, we can say it is "lived in", I have had comments from co-workers that my house is "bare" , no, none of this is correct, or what I want!! I just don't know how I can possibly reach the point that I am content with happily welcoming others into my home.
There have been moments when I reach my standards, but they are so fleeting. Would a housekeeper make a difference? Nope, don't think so!!! Because, in truth, my place is usually clean, it just has far too much useless stuff. I know, the stuff is not useless to others, heaven forbid. My problem is I can't throw the other stuff out, because it is not mine!! I just can't find a place to put it, that it doesn't drive me batty!! My issues get on everyone's nerves. I harp constantly, I make noises...You know those noises..The others get mad at my noises, and I get mad at them making me make them. The worst part, they just don't seem to understand exactly what I expect.
Actually, that really isn't the worst part, the worst part is...they don't get the fact that, if someone does show up, and the place is a mess, who gets the blame? Do folks say, "Man, that guy sure doesn't do any cleaning"? Nope, because of the way of the world, housework is directed at the female species. Do I place a sign on my front door, with a check mark stating the place was cleaned on a certain date at a certain time, like Wal Fart washrooms? Cripes, I can't put a sign up requesting guests state whether the place was clean when they visited, because they would always be signing, "needs cleaning".
The housework has caused more fights than money. I try the subtle approach. While other watch TV, I will start to whip about, picking stuff up, usually this does not even cause eyebrows to raise. Then, I start getting a tad louder, maybe throwing something very hard into the garbage, or banging the dishwasher door shut, just a little too hard. The conversations between others do not even pause. Then I begin stomping, you know, footsteps obviously harder than necessary, and this is usually when they begin to notice me.
What happens next, is never what I intend. In my tiny mind, I think, maybe, they will get the clue that they should take a few moments to clear the coffee table off, or hang up jackets that are thrown over the chair backs, or on the couch. It is clear they got the message I am ticked, and cripes, they have to realize it is the clutter driving me batty, right? Nope, what always happens is, they get upset with me being upset. Oh, then the war is on!!Couches are ripped away from the wall, closets are thrown open to receive intense cleaning, stuff that I didn't see before, magically appears in the middle of the room, and the place becomes a far bigger mess than originally. I am then faced with a ginormous cleaning job, that I didn't really want, with the others contributing their unwilling help, and the whole damn house is pissed off.
I understand, everyone has their own comfort level, but, in truth, I have had so very little time in my comfort zone. I am adjusted to the fact that it is doubtful I will ever have the home of my dreams, that lily white, sparkling Martha Stewart country comfort place. No quilts will ever be placed in frames to be hung upon my gleaming walls. Dog hair will forever coat every single piece of bedding and clothing in my home. I will tell myself, over and over again, "it's messy, but clean". In fact, perhaps, if I take some time, and think about things, "lived in" is a good thing, right?
I must simply accept that, like my phobia about spiders, I have a phobia about clutter. Like the damn spiders, clutter will always be a part of my life. Unless, of course, they one day, wrap me in a jacket I can't get out of, and drag me off to the bare white room of my dreams, with no clutter..yikes..now that I have put that down in words, it really doesn't seem all that appealing. Guess this place is not so bad, after all.