I try hard not to hate anybody or anything, but I am having some very unkind thoughts about housework.
I dust the furniture, but the dust keeps coming back.
I clean the kitchen, and the dirty dishes just reappear in the sink.
I make the bed, and 24 hours later I have to make it again.
It’s pointless. This is how the Greek gods tortured that guy Sisyphus, by making him push a heavy load up a mountain, only to have it roll back down, so he has to keep doing it over and over again, never reaching the top, for all of eternity. In the story, the heavy load is a rock, but I think it was really a load of dirty laundry.
Studies show that creative people tend to be messy people. (Or it might be the other way around, and messy people are forced to be creative because they can never find what they’re looking for.)
Since I am a creative person, science says my house is supposed to be messy.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Truth is, I’m just really bad at housework.
I run the vacuum cleaner like I’m driving a bumper car. I slam it into walls and furniture. I get it stuck under the bed. I vacuum up loose change, jigsaw puzzle pieces, earbuds and shoelaces. I have even vacuumed up the vacuum cleaner cord.
I don’t know which I hate cleaning more, the fiberglass shower enclosure or the glass shower door.
Also, who decided to let men go to the bathroom in the house?
It does not help matters that I have a long-haired cat and a long-haired dog. Now that spring is coming, they’re shedding so much fur I could make another whole dog and cat for myself.
I recently decided to try a new cleaning trick recommended by a friend. If you have a big cleaning project, break it down into one small thing a day.
My friend is washing one window every night.
There are 30 windows in my house. Who decided to put so many windows in my house?
I decided to clean and polish one kitchen cabinet every night. There are only 21 of those.
I got out my cleaning supplies and my bottle of Feed-N-Wax. Since I was only doing one small thing, I didn’t bother with my rubber cleaning gloves.
I started on the first cabinet door, wiped it down with a cleaning rag and that’s when I discovered a rather large splinter of wood near the bottom of the door.
Basically, I stabbed myself under the fingernail with a sharp stick.
Zoo-wee-mama, did that hurt. There’s a reason bad guys use this technique to make their prisoners talk.
It also proves my point that housework is torture.
Lisa Davis is Features Editor of The Anniston Star. Contact her at 256-235-3555 or email@example.com.