I was going to blog about "The Box" today, but I didn't get to it because a) it's exceptionally hot and humid, b) my hip is hurting, and c) I had a bunch of things outside the house to do today. Plus, I need to do some prep work. So "The Box" will be dealt with tomorrow, or more likely Friday.
That doesn't mean I did nothing today. I *did* do some thinking about how I want things arranged when everything's done...
All right. I've done no cleaning at all today. That will change once this blog post is up, I promise. I HAVE to deal with the papers on my desk before any of them disappear into the void--my EI application is in there, along with some job application stuff and banking details. I've already had one mishap this week with the banking stuff. I don't want another one. Ever.
Which brings me to the question I was asked on the Absolute Write Water Cooler earlier today: Why bother?
Well, the poster didn't put it exactly like that, but he did state he was fine with the mess he was living in, and he wasn't going to clean up any time soon.
I was like that as a teen. My stuff was strewn all over my bedroom floor, and I knew, to the square foot, where every single thing I owned was resting. I do have an excellent memory.
But now I've just got too many square feet of floor space, and too much critical mass, and I can't find anything. My son is going to have to go out and buy a copy of a book that I KNOW I have lying around somewhere, if only I could find it...
The mess also saps my creativity and contributes to my bouts of depression, and it becomes a never-ending spiral of gloom and mess. I need to live in a clean and tidy place now. So I'm cleaning up.
Notes about the pictures:
The Living Room: Ally has an almost 20-y-o brother who is approaching six feet, and indulges in the three most common past-times of teen and twenty-something males: eating and watching television. Yes, that's only two, but this is a family blog. If you can't figure out the third, I'm not going to enlighten you...
He's also autistic, and very hard on the furniture. He mostly lives with his dad, who gets his disability allowance, part of which goes to buy new furniture every year. I don't have that income, but I do have him over enough so that the legs have come off the sofa, and the chair has been destroyed. So yeah, I need new furniture. It ain't gonna happen anytime soon, though, unless I win the lottery or a very rich relative dies. Since neither one of those scenarios is even possible for me, I'm stuck with the dumpster contents.
The kitchen and dining room are my sore spot, really. Without a functioning kitchen, I eat out far too much, which is very bad for my waistline, my blood pressure, and my bank balance. This is a must-do, and it has to be done quickly.
The fish tank: Yes, there were plants in there. There's only one in there now, because goldfish + living plants = bigger goldfish. The plants were extras from my upstairs tank. I'll re-plant when I clean out both tanks, probably next week. I do have a bucket full of plastic plants if I run out of real ones, so the goldfish will never live in a completely bare tank.
The basement: I used to have three cats, all of which got sick one after another and died. The place was a total health hazard for about a year. Not fun at all. I've also used it over the years the way folks use their garage.
"Let's clean up, honey!"
"Great! Where will we put all the stuff?"
"We can box it up and put it in the garage, and sort through it a box at a time!"
"Great idea!"
NOT. Trust me on this. You will be happy with all the floor space. You will live your life, and gradually the mess in the garage or basement will recede from your memory. Until you look around and realize that once again you're living in a house full of junk. Whereupon the following conversation will ensue:
"Let's clean up, honey!"
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