The struggle is real, folks! If you read my last post, you can
see how crazy my work days can get. That leaves very little time
for house work. I try the best I can, but let’s be honest here,
I’ve never actually loved doing house work—except in those
moments where I fantasize what the 1950s were like and how nice
it must have been to be a housewife and not have all the
pressure to bring in income. In those moments, which are pretty
rare, I enjoy doing the housework, cooking the meals, shopping
for groceries, making everything shine! On those days, I get zero
business work done.
I’ve tried routines, which are truly the only thing that keeps
the house livable. As soon as I finish a cup of coffee, I wash
the cup right away, dry it and put it back in the cupboard. As
soon as supper is prepared and put in the plates, I wash the
pots and pans and leave them in the tray. Before I go to bed I
do the dishes. Yes, it seems the dishes are my downfall, my arch
enemy of sorts. We are living in a tiny beach cottage and I
don’t have the dishwasher that I once had—sometimes visualized
as the love of my life. Oh how I miss my dishwasher.
Someday . . .someday!
So, I try to call housework ‘exercise’ and that helps on some
days. Except when I have weeks like last week (and you should
have seen the weeks before that! Seriously! 5 migraines in one
week—got bit by a mouse and feared I had tetanus...drama never
ends in a writer’s house).
So, yeah, back to tricking myself into thinking housework is
exercise. I don’t like exercise either, but it looks nice when I
write it in my planner. Especially if I call it ‘gym’. Seriously,
I don’t have time in the day to go to a gym, much less pay
money for activity that I can get for free in a rushed fifteen-minute
whirlwind housecleaning frenzy! Especially if someone is coming
I’ve discovered (thanks to the Flylady) that if I put on the
William Tell Overture while I clean, it acts as a time limit and
the music makes me move faster. I sweep at a furious pace. I wash
and dry dishes at a marvellous speed. I destroy clutter with
style, and sweep and mop like it’s a dance! Thankfully, our place
is small so the floors take less time. Although, when I’m
vacuuming, I sometimes can’t hear the change from one overture
to another and I once thought that the William Tell Overture
was twenty minutes long—which really didn’t surprise me.
I still haven’t actually mastered the housework, at least not anything other than making sure the dishes are done as soon as they’re used. All my lovely coffee cups are clean. The bathroom shines—although to be honest, that
is last on my list.
Most days, though, it’s a struggle. No matter how many dishes I
wash, there are always more as if by magic. No matter how much
clutter I throw away, my husband always plops something down on
the kitchen table.
I’ve decided to focus on priorities. I have a strict laundry
routine. Sunday mornings my laundry gets washed, dried, and
put away. Done for the week! (Plus, electricity is half the price
on weekends and holidays, just in case you don’t know). My
husband does his own laundry. That was one of my conditions
when we got married.
Everything other than laundry, I battle with daily. On
Saturdays I’m tired and they have to wait. My spirit is willing,
but my body is weak. (And I’m still dealing with nerve damage
in my leg and can only stand up so long before my leg goes numb
and hurts and I have to sit down.)
Today, Sunday, I have just finished my coffee, written my blog
post, have to get my laundry done and then get outside and wash
the stupid deck railings. Seriously. Then get the dishes and the
floors done, shower, and relax! Thank heavens for weekends!
Have a great week!
P.S. Sorry for missing the Friday blog post.