Sometimes I feel like a house.
Just like a house, I need regular cleaning.
I have to wipe the kitchen countertops after every meal, just like I need to brush my teeth after every meal.
The paint is peeling just like my toenail polish.
The grass needs cutting like my legs need shaving, lest somebody call code enforcement on me.
I’m always brushing cobwebs from the corners of my mind.
No matter how careful I am about what I flush down the pipes, I’m still eventually going to have to get the septic tank pumped.
My bones are still good, but over the years I have neglected some basic maintenance, and now it shows.
I’m a fixer-upper.
I’m not a fading Victorian grande dame, which is good because I don’t have the kind of money it would take to restore me to my former glory.
I’m more like a 1970s split-level.
At least the avocado green appliances and the shag carpeting have been replaced.
The maintenance on this old house can be overwhelming.
Every day, something new needs to be plucked, soaked, scrubbed, shaved, brushed, cleaned, moisturized or medicated.
My support beams are sagging.
My joists creak.
There’s more water in the basement than I remember.
Cracks are appearing, and not all of them can be spackled over.
It’s getting a little hard to see out the windows.
On occasion, there are strange odors I cannot identify.
The kitchen is functional but outdated.
My power goes out without warning. I hope I don’t need rewiring.
The pipes probably need cleaning, but I really don’t want to call Roto-Rooter.
The air conditioning has been on the fritz for several years now, although the heater works just fine, let me tell you.
The roof is OK, although the shingles are starting to turn different colors.
The whole place could use a new coat of paint.
Things I should have taken care of years ago are starting to cause problems.
Sometimes I try fix it myself using information I find on the internet, but sometimes when you do that you can wind up ordering a replacement thermostat for your HVAC system and everything seems fine until one day your vents start blowing out cold air when they’re supposed to be blowing out warm air.
I told my husband that sometimes I feel like a house, and he patted me on the head and said, “Someday soon you need to clean out the attic.”
It’ll just have to wait until I have more time and more money.
Besides, I don’t want to completely modernize the place. I think that would just diminish my charm.