My (Messy) World and Welcome To It
I'm not the world's neatest person. In fact, I'm not the world's most organized person. In my home/office, these two character traits blend together to create exactly the situation you might expect. Clutter. But not permanent clutter. Years ago, I discovered that being surrounded by clutter has an effect on me -- it clutters up my head. In fact, I do best when I live in a neat and orderly environment. And since I work from hom, I don't have the luxury that you wage slaves enjoy... a nice, neat, orderly working environment where someone else cleans the bathroom and break room. (Hey, I remember refrigerators at work... I didn't include them in this!) This means that I expend considerable effort each week to stay on top of my natural tendency towards disorder.
Things have gotten harder the last 6 weeks. That is when I fired my cleaning service for reasons that they deserved. I should have fired them sooner, but I was quite dependent on them, at least emotionally. They came every two weeks, and it was a magical time. I would leave the house about 30 minutes before they were due, and simply leave a check on my counter. I would return two hours later, and marvel at how the "housekeeping fairies" had visited my house. From the moment I opened the door, I would get a whiff of the cleaning fluids used inside, a smell that means order and neatness to every cell of my body.
Of course, it wasn't all that simple. I would spend several hours before they arrived trying to restore order so they would have clean counters, desk tops, and floors to clean. No matter how out of control my clutter factor had gotten, I knew that once every two weeks everything would be clean and neat and orderly. It was a wonderful thing. The laundry would be caught up, my current reading/research project would be wrapped up into folders and books would be returned to their shelves. The stack of magazines beside my bed would be returned to the bookshelf where they truly belonged. And the remote control would be on the leopard ottoman in the living room where I could easily reach for it without worrying that I was going to knock over yesterday's Coke can.
Once they got the house immaculate, I would tip-toe around for days, trying not to mess anything up. Sometimes, I would just sit in each room and admire the order and neatness everywhere. And for the first few days, I would be very good at cleaning up every single mess I made, returning my house to the same pristine order I had so pleasantly discovered when I first walked through the door. I would vacuum every few days to keep the floors neat, and would make sure the dishes were done every night before I went to bed. Each time, I promised myself that I would keep this up until the next time they came, but like every addict, I always fell off the wagon. Sometime within about 5 days, I would stumble downstairs and realize that I had to navigate the dirty clothes I had simply tossed down the stairs the night before, and I would discover my favorite dish for my breakfast fruit parfait was sitting in the sink dirty from yesterday's breakfast. I was well meaning but weak.
When I fired them, I decided that I would do the cleaning myself for a while. I really do like the idea of doing my own cleaning. I like the idea that I move through my house, touching and moving everything I own once a week, of being totally responsible for the order and neatness of my house. (At this point, my friends must be rolling on the floor laughing because they know just how incapable I am of completing this.) I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. The "all things" being the fact that my mind is constantly going off in 15 different directions, so I have 15 projects that I've started, each with their requisit research materials, laying around the office, bedroom, and the kitchen table. It's been a good month for new ideas. Oh yes, and there is the little accounting project spread out upstairs, that one that has to be filed with a specific branch of the government that I still haven't finished for last year. (Don't say the T word, please. Not until I get them filed.) The "all things" also include the fact that I've had to sort through all of my clothes due to my ongoing weight loss, and decide what things fit, what things I'm keeping for the next season, and then what to do with the things that don't fit. "All things" also includes my ongoing decorating and craft projects. This week, I'm working on a collage of cute animal creating card for my neice who wants to be a vet. From previous weeks, I've got a mosaic frame for my powder room mirror that isn't completely grouted, shelves up in my office that didn't get painted, and a stack of Christmas presents (yes, for 2002) that are starting to overflow the area under my drafting table. There are fabric swatches that I'm using to decide how to cover my cornice boards in the living room, new lining for a pair of curtains, and a stack of Longaberger baskets that I keep promising myself I'm going to sell on eBay.
Last night, I took 2 hours and literally moved everything that was in stacks in my office to a new location. I can see the middle of the floor and the futon and drafting tables are clear. Unfortunately, the cat had gotten used to having these piles to climb on, so he is quite annoyed with me, but I'm sitting here today quite proud of myself. I've brought significant order to this room, and it was really painless. It has me inspired to do more in other rooms. Who knows... maybe I'll learn how to be neat and organized before I turn 50.
Can anyone recommend a good cleaning service?
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