Maxigumee

My mother had left to go to a friend’s vacation home a few days ago. She’s back now. While she was gone, the house was a complete mess. My father and my sister, my father mostly, are complete slobs. Within a few days, there were newspapers lying everywhere, dishes and glasses lining every bit of the kitchen counter, pillows and blankets completely out of order….

As one probably could guess from reading this blog over a long period of time, I’m a bit of a neat freak. And a clinical neat freak at that. I have obsessive compulsive disorder which leads me to be the neat freakiest neat freak ever. Ad caffeine to that (we basically only had coke to drink because the tap water tasted nasty because of the hot weather) and, well, let’s just say that you can’t really get cleaning out of my head.

Thursday, I came home from school. I went on the internet for maybe an hour, then at around four, I started to clean. I ripped apart shelves, I moved things. I moved armfuls of crap into that attic, which by now could collapse on our heads due to all of the crap that has been brought up there over the years.

Quick organizing tip: baskets are amazing. You can’t go wrong w1ith baskets. They keep clutter out of site and they look nice! Whoo-hoo!

I even cleaned the kitchen. I actually used my hands to wash dishes and then put them into the dishwasher. Congratulate me. I did this basically all by myself. I don’t think my father has really ever seriously cleaned or organized in his entire life, so I didn’t get any help from him. He just looked at me, called me crazy for cleaning and then used curse words when I touched something I wasn’t supposed to clean. I think my father is either actually likes things being cluttered and dirty, or he may simply be a masochist. There are all the signs. He overworks himself, he puts himself into situations where he gets completely stressed out, he eats badly, and he likes messes. — I didn’t get much help from my sister either. I asked her to come downstairs and help me at about 10 o’clock at night. She came downstairs, pushed a chair into place and straightened the cover on it. I guess that qualifies as cleaning to her.

I continued until about 10:30 at night cleaning. That’s about six and a half hours, if I did the math correctly. Six and a half hours of cleaning! And probably for nothing! Cleaning is basically only a temporary relief. Within a few days, the house is back to its horrible messiness. And it’s not like anybody does anything at all to help it from getting dirty. My father now has all of his garbage and newspapers all over the place. I hate newspapers. I am scarred. I can’t ever subscribe to a newspaper.

At least my mother appreciated my cleaning.