Today I was folding up my fabric scraps and sorting them by color and whatnot, which are currently stored in one of those clear plastic storage thingies in our attic. Said attic being typically atticy, it got rained on or something and so the lid of the storage thingie has been kind of mucked up and unsightly for a while. As I was bringing it downstairs, I thought something along the lines of, gee, it’s too bad the top of this storage thingie is so mucked up, which I have thought every time I looked at it, for many months, until I realized the thing that took a while to occur to me for a while, which is that... I could wipe it off.
Notably, something like this happened to me once before. I’ve lived, for the most part, in older apartments with various quirks, and one of the things I sometimes wrongly assume about these places is that the quirks are unfixable, conclusions I draw when I look at things like chrome bathroom fixtures that remain kind of dull in spite of being cleaned in what I like to think is a timely enough fashion. In this case, I once had a few extra bucks to spend on a housekeeper, and when I looked at the bathroom I was stunned to find my fixtures gleaming as though brand-new. Turns out she knew enough to just scrub them a little harder than I had.
Yes, I do realize that the two examples in this bit both relate to housecleaning. In spite of this our home is regularly cleaned although I swear new dust comes in about three minutes after its preceding dust has been removed.
3 comments:
oh, could i relate to this. i am such a failure at housework that the dust has a party when i come around with a swiffer. and i hate when the thingy in the attic becomes too atticy.
Ugh. Housecleaning is positively a Sisyphusian effort around the Wones digs. I swear, I clean the floor more now than I ever did before having a kid, and it never looks any cleaner. Plus, you know, when you live in an apartment that's at least a century old, fixtures and floors and whatnot tend to look a bit worse for wear regardless of how many times I clean. Which, you know, isn't super often, but still. Much time is also spent jousting with the clutter, most of which is dear hubby's. I know it bugs him that I get on him about it, but he can't stand the fact that I'm almost always running late, so I guess it balances out. If one is keeping score, which we are not.
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