I wrote about my perfectionism and procrastination in my previous post – and there is a certain amount of those traits that cause me to react to housework the same as I do writing.
I love a clean house, but if you have children and/or pets, you know that maintaining a clean house is a bit like being Sisyphus pushing that big ol’ rock up the hill.
After a while, perfectionism (or just frustration) kicks in and the thought crosses my mind that if it can’t stay nice, why bother.
Until you know you’re going to have company.
After the thought of even the possibility of others who do not routinely visit or live here seeing the insides of my house, the landscape changes. Instead of harmless piles of books and clean laundry and magazines and mail, I see dust and pet hair and sloppy organization. I start to see it through the meanest possible lens — even if I know that our friends are probably not going to judge what they see with the same labels I see pop into my head. (For the record, I don’t judge the housekeeping of others – this is purely how I fear others would judge me…)
So today, on the off chance that friends would end up at our house, I settled for something slightly less chaotic than an all-night cleaning spree.
Twenty minutes. That’s it. Put things back where they belong (or at least on my desk — which still isn’t clean and functional – but I’m hoping it will be after I have seen Teresa’s new one on Facebook!). Put some dishes away and wipe off the counters. Quick run of the vacuum cleaner – but just upstairs. Nothing fancy.
It didn’t look the cleanest it’s ever been, but it seemed less messy and more tidy.
I’ll take it.
It might be that this is a good reason to have people over more often. :)