Cleaning, you know I hate it.
You know what else I hate? Cats. You know what I really, really, really hate? Cleaning up closets after cats have been there.
But there is something postive that comes from cleaning. It’s a cathartic measure. Out with old, in the with the new. Like the new tile we’re putting into both of our bathrooms/closets. When we’re all done this will be One Less Thing To Worry About. Check it off, baby!
We’ve (by We read: Shane, my delightful husband) already repainted both bathrooms. We’ve installed our new countertops. We’ve go the tile lined up and ready to go!
I’m thrilled for a few reasons, not the least of which is that this sh*t just needed to get done and it makes the whole place more pleasant. But my biggest reason is that I truly have a hard time creating around un-creative clutter. Toppling piles of books? You’ve got it: I can write there. Crazy kid artwork? Yep, I can work there too.
Piles of clothes, toys, more clothes, dishes, and “What the hell is that?” Not so much. I also really despise the “We’re almost done but not quite there” clutter of home improvement. Paint brushes, piles of stuff waiting for a new home–these get me to pulling my hair out. (And I have a lot of hair, so that could take a while.)
Since the New Year means that I get to write at home, all this stuff needs to be under control pronto or I will be a flippy mess that Shane will want to brick-up-Poe-style. And trust me, he’s got the tools to do it!
More on the glory of the Garage Sale soon!
Jenny writes dark fiction that her mother hates. Her stories and essays have appeared in Across the Margin, Pantheon, Shimmer, Black Denim Lit, Skive, and others. When she’s not writing her own stuff, she’s reading mysteries for Criminal Element. When she’s not writing fiction or reviews, she’s writing/directing/performing/designing plays at Springs Ensemble Theatre.