Over the past 6 months to possibly even a year, I’ve become so disgustingly relaxed regarding the cleanliness of my house that it reached embarrassing levels of filth. I’ve contemplated the possibility that I could be actually experiencing a real bout of depression, because never in my life have I allowed my home to get this horribly out of control while not even giving a shit about it the whole time it was happening.
Even in times of great stress and sadness, I’ve found solace in a shiny clean toilet bowl. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m one of those obnoxious cleanliness/godliness folks. But those days suddenly disappeared. I’m sure it all happened slowly over time. I don’t think it was a dramatic date that I decided that we should see how many layers of soap scum could build on the surface of the tub before we could scrape through it with our toe nails and leave our initials for the next bather to see.
And so to get my ass in gear and “STOP THE INSANITY” as dear Susan Powter would say, I devised a plan to slowly ease myself back into the land of the clean and respectable population. I have a schedule written in a notebook wherein I tackle one or two rooms of the house every night. Each day shouldn’t take more than ½ hour and if I stick to the schedule, my house should get and remain clean the way it should be and the way that I used to take pride in.
I didn’t tell anyone about it – I just set out to do it and I finished my first weekly cycle last night. This morning’s conversation with Ziggy:
Ziggy: “Damn, did you clean the bathroom mirror or something? The whole bathroom looks all bright all of a sudden. It’s hurting my eyes.”
*I move to the tub and slowly peel back the shower curtain*
Ziggy: “Holy shit! The tub is WHITE! Jesus, woman, welcome back!”
And then he hugged me.
And the more I mull over the whole experience, the more I realize that yes, YES, I think that the sadness, the fog, the dense matter hovering over my head for the past 6 – 12 months could truly have been depression that normally would require an Rx and a pat on the back…but this time…I just lived it and mucked through it and am very slowly, oh so slowly, coming out of the fog. It’s still very hazy around me, but the brightness from the tub and the inches of dust removed may be helping to push me along.
Shoot, if I keep this up, I might actually cut my toe nails and eat a vegetable or two!
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2 comments:
My husband says the following to me on a regular basis: "You were a lot tidier when we first got married."
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I can always tell how depressed I am by the state of my house. It's weird how a clean toliet makes you feel alive again, isn't it?
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