Like, really cleaned. And it is a BIG deal.
For weeks, I’ve been flitting about just lightly cleaning the house every two weeks or so. Oh you know, a little dusting here, a little vacuuming there. Nothing special.
But it’s irked me. I’ve been cringing at the sight of dusty corners that the vacuum just can’t reach and at the counter that just never seems to stay crumb-free for at least 5 minutes. I blame it on my laziness. Who wants to spend their free time cleaning? I have more important things to do. Like watching Pretty Little Liars.
Last Friday, I came home from work with a very ambitious plan. I’m going to tackle that tub, I’m going to attack that stove, I’m going to grab the greasy microwave by the horns and make it my bitch. This whole place is going to be cleaned so well that it will shine like a brand spankin’ new convertible, damnit.
And I did. It was 10 p.m. and I was finally done. The tub was scrubbed, the floors were mopped (twice), things were in its rightful place. All was right with the world. I was tired, achy and hungry, but all that mattered was that it was DONE. And the new car shine! There was new car shine all over the place!
It’s good to complete things. Makes me feel weightless and like I can take on the next big project: deep-cleaning the fridge.
Very very exciting things to come people…