Life Preservers

2000s to the Curb

January 25, 2010 at 2:47 pm 2 comments

A few posts back, I bemoaned the avalanche of disorganization in my life, especially in my home. I missed that feeling of being caught up or, more aptly, that feeling of feeling as if, should I want to, I could get caught up.

I would have said it’s been this way for a couple of years, max. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this snowball started rolling somewhere around-about the year 2000.

Now, we all have our own set of troubles and I’m not here to unload mine, but, for the sake of explanation, let me just note that the 2000s have been difficult, trying, and surprising (in the bad way). Said good-bye to some really good, significant people. I had three really really (really) bad boyfriends followed by (on the insistence of well-meaning friends who I may never forgive) the bizarro world of online dating that led me to dates with dreamboats like Psycho Businessman, Racist Dwarf, Creepy Dog Owner, and Guy With a Dent in His Head. Said good-bye to my beloved Mustang, which I miss more than the boyfriends. Got laid off (twice). Blew out my knee. A pipe broke. The roof leaked. The air conditioner died. The furnace and water heater got red-tagged due to a gas leak. Had to put my cat to sleep. My purse was stolen (twice). A van hit my house. And. I turned 40.

The past decade has been, pardon my French, a real torrentielle de merde.

Maybe I gave up. Maybe I was depressed. Maybe I was lazy. Maybe my priorities shifted. Whatever it was, I got behind on stuff. Stop. Sit. Repeat. My behinder got bigger.

And soon, instead of doing a tidy-up once a week (or even every other week), what little energy you manage to gather is spent on the development of more creative ways to hide The Junk That Doesn’t Go There because someone is at the door. You use one arm to sweep everything on your dresser into a drawer; you jam dirty laundry into a closet hoping the door doesn’t explode behind you; you put dirty dishes in the oven. You know what I mean.

(You do know what I mean, don’t you?)

This past weekend, I don’t know how or why, but I awoke early on Saturday and thought, “I should do some laundry.” Amazingly, I did not shove the thought under a couch cushion and sit on it. Instead, I put on shoes, which is a rare accomplishment in or around my house at any time of year.

I pushed on.

I cleared a path to the washer and dryer and began sorting. And laundry inevitably led me to all the places that laundry goes. And beyond. Drawers, closets, cupboards. The garbage bags piled up. Stack by stack, room by room, upstairs, downstairs, bit by bit. It got done.

By the time the playoffs started on Sunday, the summer clothes were packed away in the basement and the winter clothes were wearable. Cupboards and drawers are neat. The bills are paid. A wardrobe or two await a trip to Goodwill. A big ol’ broken chair went to the curb, and I’ve got some special things lined up to leave the garbage men for the next few weeks. The dishes in the dishwasher are dirty. The sheets on the bed are clean.  I threw caution to the wind and threw away all of the single socks! And, yes, all of the Christmas decorations are back in the attic.

Now, lest you be too amazed, I should point out that the car did not get washed or driven to the grocery store. The garage remains very garage-like. And one-fourth of my basement remains overrun by misfit furniture sitting on the cracked up floor that was under the carpet I had to pull up when the basement flooded a bit in 2004.

Good-bye decade. It’s been fun, but I’m kickin’ you to the curb.

Got a dirty house secret? Wanna share?

Entry filed under: Humor - Commentary. Tags: 2000s, disorganization, housework, humor.