The only task I gave myself in this 5 bedroom, 3 bathroom, 2 kitchen, 2storey house that i call my home which includes a basement, a gazebo and 2 other small building/structures, is to clean 1 room, all 200+ sq. ft. of it … at least once a week. That said room is MINE, and every week there is a battle between my “mature responsible self” and my “lazy slob self”. Last week, im ashamed to say that the former got a beating …booo, let me bury my head in the sand for a while… haay, I have no excuse, not even an imagined illness. Early on, as in most things that bothers me about …ME, I try to psychoanalyze myself. In this case, to find the reason to my aversion to the entire concept of the word …CLEANING. I don’t know why but, we just never clicked, I was never attracted to it, not even one tinie winnie bit. So imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered that I am allergic to house dust and house dust mites(among other things). I would have bouts of sneezing, watery eyes, hay fever, skin rashes and clogged nose when im exposed to this allergens. Woot, woot, finally, an excuse not to hold that rag or feather duster or whatever it is that one uses for cleaning. I now have a clinical test that gave me the reason and the answer to my question. My conclusion, I don’t like cleaning because cleaning makes me physically and literally …sick! HAHAHA, what a great excuse! From then on, all the cleaning was done by everybody else, except me.
Fast forward by a few years, I got myself treated by an allergy doctor and went tru a treatment called “desensitization” to control my allergies, where they gave me a shot every 2 weeks(?) for, I forgot how many years. To this day, after all that money spent and 1 anaphylactic reaction that could have killed me, I still don’t know if I got better from those shots. Anyway, back to the original topic, ultimately, it was maturity, or at least some semblance of it that made me face the problem head-on. I berated and scolded myself, how can a supposedly well-bred lady sleep in such a messy room, I should be ashamed of myself. well… I am. why didn’t you ask one of your house help to do it, you may ask. that’s a bit of a problem, you see, I have developed a somekind of an OCness about strangers touching my personal effects, tidying my stuff and putting them in places where I couldn’t find them. So that just leaves, ME to do the deed. Besides, me cleaning my room is way overdue. *I think I heard a lot of YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN!*
Now … Sundays are “Must Clean My Room” day, but I have to be honest, i STILL dread this day approaching because of this task. Every week, it is a struggle … a battle that I need to win to prove to myself that im a responsible adult. Every Sunday …this 200 sq. ft. of floor space that I call My Room is there challenging me … daring me to prove myself and show my worth. This week, im very pleased to say that my “mature responsible self” won versus this room, YAHOO !!! after that loss last week, I have to redeem myself and pick myself up if I don’t want to continue to slide into the world of the sloth …no,no,no,no,no.
Did I just hear somebody say, “ SO, why did you write about this again?” welllll … its some sorta theraphy for me, so indulge me, okie? ((*.~))
