The Cleaning Lady

Matt and I aren't exactly super cleaners. Neither one of us had chores growing up, and while it made for a great childhood, it didn't make for a great work ethic. Luckily, when my mom would get exhasperated with my bedroom, she would tell me that my future house would be *disgusting*, and that was enough to imbue me with guilt and paranoia. Matt's a boy, and his mom wasn't very adamant about his room resembling anything clean.

In that unspeakable time when I lived with Matt's parents, I was doubly infused with guilt. See, even though 98% of my stuff was packed in tubs, Matt's mom became convinced that I was the source of her house being messy. So she came up with these chore charts for "us" to do, only, she quit doing them shortly thereafter. What's sad is that she clearly still thinks that it was my fault, because when his parents made that suggestion that we move in with them to help with their mortgage, out of her mouth was "well, we'd need to make up chore charts". So what I walked away from that house with was a prescription for xanax and a double helping of self-consciousness about the appearance of my living quarters...oh, and she also at one point gifted me with books on cleaning and de-cluttering. And Matt wonders why I go on the verge of nervous breakdown when we have company.

Slowly, but surely, we're making progress. I think it's perfectly reasonable for two busy twenty-somethings to take a while figuring out how to keep their living quarters clean, especially when you're also figuring out married life. I admit that it frustrates me when Matt doesn't notice his beard trimmings all over the bathroom sink like brown confetti. I admit that for a long time, I've gone with the assumption that if I just wait, he'll notice and do it himself. But that period of waiting leads to things being far over the line of what I can handle. (Can you imagine if we'd moved back in with his parents? I'd come out OCD!) What I also realize is that keeping things clean also depends on the tools you have. When you have a washer that randomly eats your quarters, you aren't so inclined to do laundry. When your vacuum regurgitates carpet every foot, you aren't so inclined to vacuum.

This weekend we finally got a new vacuum. We also finished tackling our laundry, and dear heavens, our bedroom looks divine. So, I was inspired to take matters into my own hands and re-organize Matt's desk.

I'm sure I'll never be as neat as I could be (aren't creative brains stereotypically more messy anyway?), but maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to have people over without feeling like I need to apologize.