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Clean sweep (without the cute boys)
Jun. 15th, 2004 10:16 amI would certainly never classify myself as an obsessive housekeeper. I like things to be tidy - I can't get comfortable if there's too much clutter around me - but I'm highly skilled at ignoring dust. I don't mind cleaning the bathroom or the kitchen counters, but I hate washing floors, and I always get tangled in the vacuum cord. Always.
My parents are coming out to visit, though (somewhat accidentally - they were coming out to Ontario to go to the Stratford Festival, and it wasn't until after they'd booked their flight that they realized how expensive tickets were for the shows, so they decided to come to Toronto for a few days rather than spend the whole week there seeing shows). They've never seen my place before. They've never actually seen anywhere that I've lived, other than when my mom helped me move from Montreal to Toronto, and in that case all she saw was a room full of boxes. So even though my parents are in no way clean freaks, even though they are well acquainted with dust, I still feel this compulsion to prove that, really, I don't live like a slob.
The problem is that I'm also lazy, so my grandiose ideas about cleaning those parts of the apartment that haven't been touched in two years are battling with my natural inclination to sit on my ass and do nothing. That said, two weekends ago I was inspired to take all the books off my bookshelf and wash the shelves down, and this past weekend I took everything out of the fridge and cleaned it, removed the dust from my CD shelves, washed down all my fans, and cleaned about half my bedroom, complete with moving furniture so that I could vacuum all the dust up, before I gave up in exhaustion.*
What remains to be seen is whether I will ever get around to the other half of the bedroom, let alone move into the living room. Still, I figure what I've done so far should hold me for at least another couple of years.
*And also guilt, because I the dustiest part of the room was my oboe and all my reed-making supplies, which I haven't touched since...well, since I moved to Montreal, I guess. Angst!
My parents are coming out to visit, though (somewhat accidentally - they were coming out to Ontario to go to the Stratford Festival, and it wasn't until after they'd booked their flight that they realized how expensive tickets were for the shows, so they decided to come to Toronto for a few days rather than spend the whole week there seeing shows). They've never seen my place before. They've never actually seen anywhere that I've lived, other than when my mom helped me move from Montreal to Toronto, and in that case all she saw was a room full of boxes. So even though my parents are in no way clean freaks, even though they are well acquainted with dust, I still feel this compulsion to prove that, really, I don't live like a slob.
The problem is that I'm also lazy, so my grandiose ideas about cleaning those parts of the apartment that haven't been touched in two years are battling with my natural inclination to sit on my ass and do nothing. That said, two weekends ago I was inspired to take all the books off my bookshelf and wash the shelves down, and this past weekend I took everything out of the fridge and cleaned it, removed the dust from my CD shelves, washed down all my fans, and cleaned about half my bedroom, complete with moving furniture so that I could vacuum all the dust up, before I gave up in exhaustion.*
What remains to be seen is whether I will ever get around to the other half of the bedroom, let alone move into the living room. Still, I figure what I've done so far should hold me for at least another couple of years.
*And also guilt, because I the dustiest part of the room was my oboe and all my reed-making supplies, which I haven't touched since...well, since I moved to Montreal, I guess. Angst!