Week 3

Week 3 of Apartment Therapy found me at my worst curled into a ball on my hardwood floor in front of my kitchen sink. This week, I renewed my acquaintance with Perfectionism, and she took me for quite a spin.

This is why I don't clean. I don't clean because once I start, I'm afraid I'll never stop. There is no end to dust, to crumbs and hairs on the floor. No end to the amount of cleaning you can do. And I fear the dark path down that road. I am my mother as I snap at Penelope when her fork clatters on the floor, sending sticky bits of egg and vegetables flying. She's just making more work! Now I have to bend down, brush it off, get a paper towel wet and wipe it up. I remember my mother's face when we'd walk across her newly mopped kitchen floor. It animates my own.

I don't want Penelope or anyone else to become nervous around me lest they spill something. I've found myself all week nervous around myself. I curse and stamp my feet when a rogue onion flies off my knife and splats onto the floor; I nearly cry when I see a few stray hairs curling around the feet of my tray tables, almost as if they hover above the floor by infinitesimal amounts. All week I've been jumping and cursing and crying.

I want to take myself and my cat out of the house, seal it tight, to prevent against further damage we might do to it. I'm afraid of living in my own home because living is messy. Living means hairs fall off of my head and onto the floor; it means dishes that pile up in the sink; it means countertops that become free from tea stains only after being soaked 3 times in bleach. It never ends.

I still have one box unchecked from Week 1: "Sweep & Mop floors." I've taken a broom and a dustbuster to my entire apartment, but I've only managed to scrub with borax and castor oil soap an with a scratchy sponge a 2' square right in front of the stove. Week 2, I still have "Clean kitchen top--> bottom & throw away old food" and "Run hands over every wall in apt" unchecked. I still need to clean my stove, my refrigerator, my floors, Salem's food station.

Week 3 has been freeing, though, in a sense. I've decided that I simply will not do the color part of the therapy. I'm leaving soon, and as much as I'd love to paint and get new decorative pillows, I don't see the point. So my rooms might be too cold or too warm, but I'm not bothering with it. Instead, I'll focus on maintaining what I have. I've reorganized my entranceway a bit and now have a place to rest my wallet, checkbook, phone, agenda so I can change bags daily. I have yet to design an invitation for my housewarming or cancel my unused subscriptions, but I'll work on that slowly.

I started NaNoWriMo today. I'm a bit nervous that this project on top of Apartment Therapy on top of writing down every cent I spent this month might do more damage than good, but we'll see. Up next: living room.