Maybe if I didn’t have a blog, if I didn’t virtually live alone, if I had a little more spunk, if more friends were prone to spontaneously dropping by, if Marty lived here, if I threw more dinner parties, if I cleaned up after myself, if I had nothing better to do, if I weren’t as lazy as hell, if I owned the joint, if I weren’t a full-time student and a part-time mom and a part-time fiancee, if I didn’t leave and live at Marty’s almost every weekend, maybe I’d have a spiffier, niftier, happier house! Maybe.
Two separate people on two separate occasions in the last month said to me “I bet your house is really neat”, “Ha!” I barked in surprise each time, “that’s funny”. In some ways I am super anal-retentive and OCD and all, and I can be very organized and neat and clean personally, but when it comes to housework, for some reason I am allergic. Dishes and laundry are not a problem. I do not own a dish that can’t go in the dishwasher, or an article of clothing that can’t handle machine washing. These two appliances are my best friends and I use them all the time. But sweep, vacuum, scrub, put away, fold? What’s that? If there’s not an appliance available to do it for me, I’m not interested. Mainly it’s the clutter and the unfolded laundry that do me in. Any suggestions?