My house is in a state of disarray. It’s really quite pathetic. I’ve told my husband that we should just take a rake and scrape together all the tufts of dog hair that litter the carpet. I’m afraid the next time I open the shower curtain something will wink at me and say, “Hey, honey, how’s it goin’?”
I’ve said before what a terrible housekeeper I am. I let things pile up. I put things off. I don’t want to start things unless I can get it all done. I suppose it’s that perfectionist mentality creeping in. I think part of me rebels too – rebels against what’s expected of me. When I was young and I had to clean my room, I would put things away, but some things I wanted to leave out. My mother, however, would come back and require to put everything away. Leaving all that stuff out looked like clutter to her, and she’s truly an everything-has-its-place-and-everthing-in-its-place person. My husband tells me that I’m unconsciously rebelling against this conditioning. I suppose that’s true. I think it’s also because I’m lazy.
The one thing that brings me consolation comes from watching those shows on TLC or HGTV where someone comes in and organizes a filthy house. Those houses are so ridiculously messy that it makes me feel better about mine. It’s like being overweight and feeling more at ease with yourself when you see someone bigger than you.
For now, I have the first week in August off from work, and my husband has three of those days off with me. I see some serious housecleaning in our future.
Some couples go on romantic vacations; we plunge ourselves elbow deep into dust, dog hair and mildew. Now that’s a way to keep the spark in our marriage.