My Day of Imposed Cleaning, Minute By Minute

10:30 am — warning from the Big Dawg that he was coming over at 5:30pm to assess my progress and “help”

11:00 am — bank run

11:30 am — meet with Dad and purchase needed cleaning supplies.  Apparently everyone should have a small bucket; something I have never needed before, but I think it has something to do with using fewer paper towels.  He is so green.

12:15 pm — feel like I have  plenty of time, although I keep glancing at the clock.  Promise myself that at 1:00 pm, I’m going to get busy

12:30 pm — reply to bunch of comments

1:00 pm — decide I still have plenty of time and write my Building Rome  post.

1:30 pm — respond to more comments

2:00 pm — Mom calls and I inquire what is meant by “pre-cleaning.”  She is sick of my anxiety and tells me to just work on things.

2:01 pm — I start cleaning small bathroom.  Have to take breaks because the bathroom is literally so small that I am having a hard time reaching around to get behind the toilet.  It isn’t really all that dirty, but there is that skuzz around the toilet that only DSB seemed to be able t0 make.

2:15 pm — taking a break, Dad calls to offer me encouragement and to bribe me with chicken pho if I can get my house cleaned

2:30 pm — finish the small bathroom.  The floors could be cleaner, but it is my understanding that I am just supposed to get up the yuck and they will be mopped tomorrow.

2:31 pm — take a small break and start this blog post.

2:45 pm — spread toilet bowl cleaner in both toilets.  Take out trash of both bathrooms and put new liners in the baskets.  Rearrange hygiene and beauty items in big bathroom.  Realize I have a clean shower curtain stuffed into the cabinet and set out to be put on.

3:15 pm — sit down for a small break and listen t0 a couple motivating songs on YouTube

3:25 pm — field a call from Dad, checking my progress.  Assure Dad that I’m working at it as best I can.

3:30pm — wipe down all surfaces in the bathroom with the wonderful Scrubbing Bubbles stuff, that actually doesn’t smell like a harsh cleanser, but that can take a beating

3:40 pm  — break time…back and lungs killing me

3:45 pm — desperate text message to QoB…in need of reassurance…she was supposed to help me get ready for this!

3:49 pm — pondering if I should tackle toilet or bathtub first

3:52 pm — tackle the toilet first

3:58 pm — sit and rest a  minute.  Curse DSB in my mind and out loud.

4:02 pm — tackle the toilet AGAIN

4:08 pm — sit and rest, receive reply from QoB…replied back, no return reply…

4:12 pm — tackle the rest of the toilet and start on shower

4:19 pm — breaktime and encouraging text from Mom

4:30 pm  — tackle the shower

4:36 pm — am I ever gonna be done?  All that’s left to do now is kitchen.  Praise the Lord.

4:44 pm — scrub small bathroom toilet

4:46 pm — short break.  I am not even missing cigs right at the moment…let’s hope that holds!

4:47 pm — remove coffee pot and tray; spritz off  microwave cart; put spritzer on countertop where coffee pot was in order to set in

4:51 pm — sit and rest a min

4:52 pm — get off ur ASS

4:58 pm — coffee stains all scrubbed, new tray put under, put away unneeded cleaning supplies

5:02 pm — pondering if the Big Dawg is just going to show up unannounced.  That would be SO like him.  A little routine inspection with a white gloved hand.

5:04 pm —  clean out microwave, unload and reload dishwasher

5:22 pm — I sure hope he doesn’t come and tell me to do some more.  I have Barkeep’s Friend at handy and I’m thinking of resting for just a minute and then having a go at those stains that are on my stove.

5:35 pm — I’m still thinking of having a go at my stove.  In the meantime, I’ve talked to Mom and she sounds stoned or tired.  Probably tired.  She’s been working in my sister’s garden all day and is anxiously anticipating the arrival  of my nephew.  I think my current drama situation is pretty low on her priority list, stoned or not.  😀

5:55 pm — been sitting here for the last 15 minutes just looking and commenting on blogs.  I feel like I should feel a little better about the work I have done, but I worry it will not have been enough.  It never is enough — everyone in my life feels that way, like no matter how much they do, they should have done more.  My mom and sister are BOTH like that.  It drives me crazy, and then they wonder where I get it from!

 

Lack of Routine = Epic Fail

I am blogging now because I am hopeful that I can talk myself into cleaning and laundry and dishes by the end of the post.  I had so much energy about 10 days ago when I started Project Re-Invent, but I’ve had a few days off due to working and Monday QT with DSB.  It seems that all energy for the project has been sapped from me.

I woke up not feeling well today, a common side effect of my meds.  I took a few Immodium, and decided to rest for a little bit.  Well, I fell back asleep and woke up about an hour ago, still in need of more Immodium.  What is it about these drug cocktails that cause such horrible bowel problems?  This has been going on for years and years and years!

I ate a few dry Saltines a little bit ago, popped a few more Immodium, and took my noon dose of Ritalin.  I am convinced that I will be feeling on top of the world within the hour.  I mean, really, I NEED to be!

I was very much not pleased at falling back asleep this morning.  I took my sleeping pills too late last night and therefore did not have that pleasant morning wake-up around 7:30am.  Instead, I woke up groggy at 9:00am, thus the falling back asleep when deciding to rest my tummy.

Is it just me, or is there this fine balance that we have to walk in order to function like an average adult?  I mean, in order to get the chores and “have-to’s” done, and leave a little time in for play, I have to stick to my routine like my life depends on it.

If I don’t get my meds taken by 7:30pm, I am totally screwed for the next day.  If I don’t head for bed around 9:00pm, I am totally screwed for the next day.  If I don’t wake up by 8:00am and take my Ritalin and drink two cups of coffee, I can’t function.  My day is shot, both in getting done what I need to get done, but also in my mood and my interactions with other people.

I would like to be more flexible in my routine, but I have tried and time and time again it fails.  When the time changed, my mother suggested I try staying up later since it was light later.  I have learned from past experience and I told her there was no way I could do that.  She reconsidered and agreed it would be a bad idea.  It’s just that the IDEA IS ALWAYS THERE.

Hey, I could do this or change this or it would be ok just this one time.  Well, hell, it just doesn’t work that way.  Almost 15 years I have been living with bipolar, and it hasn’t sunk in.  Therapists and doctors and books and websites and research papers reiterate it: you must find a schedule or a routine and stick with it, no matter what.  Why hasn’t it sunk into my thick head yet?

There is such an urge to be “normal” and do whatever I want, go to bed at midnight and get up at two the next day.  I spent many years drinking alcohol, but decided over a year ago it just wasn’t in my best interests due to the bipolar and the meds.  I deal with it ok, but there are times, fleeting times, when it sure would be nice to have a margarita.  There is a big fireworks show at the lake this year, but it doesn’ start until 10:00pm and the lake is 30 minutes from my house.  The chances of me watching it, getting home, and getting anything recognizable as sleep are zilch.  I so much want to, but I so much know I can’t.

The worst is that the majority of the world around you doesn’t have to stick to a strict schedule.  My mom can stay up poppin’ tops until all hours, and still go out and put in eight hours worth of planting lilies in the sun like a rockstar.  Sure, she feels a little crappy, but she CAN DO IT.  DSB can live with three to five hours of sleep for weeks on end and not have his mood, his attitude, or his demeanor change.  My dad can stay up until two or three in the morning and sleep until nine the next day, and then the following day, go to bed at ten and get up at five, and be JUST FINE.

The one person I know who needs a strict sleep routine like me isn’t even bipolar.  Big Dog needs his nine to ten hours of sleep each night, or his mood, his attitude, his outlook starts the road downhill.  He tries to do more, of course, and in the busy season, he does.  But then he has to take naps, just so he can function.  I wish I could take a nap and not have it ruin my whole day.

I am throwing my hands up in the air at this time.  Ok, I have to stay on a schedule.  I screw myself when I don’t.  I am going to see if I can salvage at least part of this day, being as it is already 1:00pm.  I just hate feeling like I have wasted most of my day and it seems like I get that feeling a lot.