Domestic Anarchy

Note: This post will only make sense in context. Make sure you have read yesterday’s post first.

This morning provided many challenges and opportunities. Now given the messed up sleeping schedule of the last week, I was having difficulties sleeping normal hours. I woke up from a dead sleep at 3:51 am this morning, tried for about an hour to get back to sleep before I gave up at 4:47 am. Now I know you are thinking that it is more likely that I was up until 4:47 am, rather than got up at 4:47 am. And you would normally be right. But as it turns out, this gave me a lot of time to clean before I have to go to work at 4:00 pm today.

In fact, I had over 11 hours to clean. So even if I put into motion yesterday’s procrastination techniques (and don’t think I didn’t consider it), I would likely still have about 4 hours to clean. My apartment is 640 square feet. You do the math. Not to mention the fact that if I tried to do #3 of my procrastination techniques – #3: make a phone call, if there is no answer leave a message for them to phone back – it is likely no one would be speaking to me given the fact that I would be calling between the hours of 5:00 am and 8:00 am on a Saturday morning – also, would be dangerous to leave message declaring I was the one who called at ungodly hour, not to mention those calls would be “unpleasant” when returned, much yelling to be sure. So I resigned myself to my inevitable fate.

I concluded that either my subconscious was telling me that it was time to clean my apartment because it was bordering on uninhabitable; or the OCD Queen of Clean had put some sort of curse on me for being a) such a smartass, and, b) a lazy disgusting sloth. If you think I am being overly-dramatic merely because I hate mornings and abhor getting up early.... Here is how my morning progressed once my feet hit the floor:  

I got out of bed and I ended up doing an impromptu push-up against the wall as a stray pillow on the floor tripped me into a pile of clothes. It is damn lucky that I have ninja-like reflexes and my head didn’t instead go through said wall.

Make bed = check.

Exercise (ninja-like wall push-up *see above) = check.

I stopped enroute to the kitchen and looked at my plants; half of them looked like they were sacrificing their limbs to retain some semblance of life, dropping dead leaves all over the floor, and the other half appeared to be trying to grow towards my kitchen sink in the hopes that they could possibly absorb any splash of water from the eventual washing of my dishes. I swear they were all prepared to sprout legs and march themselves out onto my balcony in search of moisture in the form of a stray snowflake, morning fog or even pigeon urine. So I watered them.

Water plants = check.

Once my coffee was brewed, I reached into my cupboard to find – wait for it.... zero clean coffee mugs. Damn. Well I suppose it was time to wash the dishes anyway.

Postscript: Dishes must soak, it is practically a moral imperative, so I set a sink-full to soak in some nice hot soapy water and sat and drank some coffee.... rinse, lather, repeat.

Dishes = check.

Next, I admitted to myself that I absolutely refuse to do laundry until the weekend is over and I am on days off again. But I figured I could deal with illusion, so I wandered through apartment picking up clothes/towels and hid it all in my bedroom closet. I had to lean on the closet door to get it closed, but it looks better now.

Laundry = check.

Bathroom looks tons better without towel islands – upside: wet towel islands appeared to clean bathroom floor, looks almost Mr. Clean sparkly. Bleach wipes took care of the rest. For those of you who think that you need buckets of water and cleaning products, rags and mops to clean the bathroom, may I introduce you to the invention of the disposable bleach wipes. Pull out wipe, wipe counter tops, discard. Pull out wipe, wipe toilet, discard. etc.

Clean bathroom = check

Coffee grounds on kitchen floor caused me to have a sit, a smoke and quick conversation with myself. I laid out the options. 1) Get dog... dogs keep kitchen floors clean! or, 2) Pull out vacuum and suck up coffee grounds and other manner of unidentifiable grossness from floor.  Now I know you are all thinking “just get the dog”... and I would have, except there was no guarantee that the dog I would bring home would be the fan of coffee that I am. And I was also reasonably certain that no breed of dog was likely to eat dead plant leaves off my carpet for me. Sigh.

 Vacuuming = check

Now the OCD Queen of Clean can stop hyperventilating.

Ooh, maybe I can fit in a nap before work!

Peace out

Dar