The Not-So-Exciting Tales of Rosa

I made a commitment to blog more regularly and it has been one big FAIL.  I attribute it to many things, including the fact that my give-a-shitter is broken, I don’t feel I can blog about a lot of what is going on in my life right now, and because everything I pour out seems to be pure drivel.

I’ve decided to stop caring about all of that, and just blog.  Duh, I should have decided this a long time ago, but it’s always a process for me.  Now, that doesn’t mean I’m going to start airing all my dirty laundry, it just means that posts will be more frequent, as well as a bit more random.  If I get a great idea for a  post (which hasn’t happened in weeks), I’ll really take my time and develop it.  Otherwise, I’ll just be writing about day-to-day life for now.

I quit smoking three weeks, five days, 17 hours, 58 minutes and 11 seconds ago. 1604 cigarettes not smoked, saving $216.66. Life saved: 5 days, 13 hours, 40 minutes.

Those stats are getting impressive.  Not so much the time stat, but over $200 saved, over 1600 cigs not smoked?  Holy shit!  You sometimes don’t realize how severe your addiction is until you’re not coughing much, you’re not short of breath anymore, and you see the cold numbers.

Quitting smoking hasn’t been easy as of late.  Yesterday, I had to ask Mom to pull all the money off my debit card, because it was too tempting to go buy a pack of cigarettes.  Now, if I went off and smoked a pack of cigarettes, I am sure I would be sick, but my anxiety level has been through the roof and I was completely convinced that smoking a cigarette would fix everything.  Well, reason and logic told me it just wouldn’t.  SOOOO, I am still smoke-free.  Thank God, because that was a close one.

I am having some motivation problems (ok, severe motivation problems), related to above-stated anxiety, some mild depression, big feelings of being overwhelmed.  I haven’t kept up on my housework as I should and I let what started out as a couple of mice under my sink turn into a much bigger problem.

The Big Dawg came over yesterday and gave me a kind lecture, all the while reassuring me it would be ok if I just followed a certain set of steps.  So, I’m committed to doing just that and I am committed to getting a big chunk of the work done before I ask Mom to come over and help.  That is what he suggested, and I think he is right.  You can’t leave your own messes for someone else to clean up.

And I am motivated.  I want to be able to have people over to my house again, for people to feel comfortable here.  Along with cleaning for mice, I will be cleaning for smoke residue, which should make things much more pleasant in general.  I have all the supplies I need, and am going to work at finding more time over the next four days (my four work-days), even though I have unfortunately scheduled a social event for nearly every evening.

Speaking of which, why in the eff do I do that?  Well, I mean, I know why.  I am painfully, hopelessly lonely.  As Mom says, there was someone always around (DSB) for over two years, and I got used to that, and now it is hit or miss if I will be able to find someone to talk to.  And as bad as it sounds, as terrible as DSB and my relationship was at times, there were good parts.

We had coffee together in the mornings, watched our favorite shows and ate dinner together at night.  For periods of our relationship, we talked about everything under the sun and could sit and visit for hours on end.  I also had a sense of safety and security, with DSB and Rascal at home.  I didn’t w0rry about my house being broken into or getting stranded by the side of the road or coming home in the dark.

There was someone to drive me places (because I have come to the point that I hate to drive) and someone to tell me (at all  hours of the day and night) that everything was going to be ok, that I was ok, that what I did or said was ok.  To give me advice.  To, for a time in our relationship, love me unconditionally.

I miss that and I work very hard every day at pushing through that.  I don’t talk about it with hardly anyone, just one friend and I think I may have mentioned it to Goddess of Mindfulness and my mom.  And I didn’t get into details with my dad the other day, when he asked me if I was lonely…I just cried and cried.

Sometimes I feel like no one understands or wants to understand.  Other times I feel very understood.  The times after it gets dark are the worst, but the day can be just as bad if I don’t have anything going on.  I just feel like I keep desperately reaching out and I am only burdening and annoying people.

Building Mastery Decreases Stress

 

It’s that Weird Wednesday challenge again, coordinated and directed by Mental Mama.  I know that last week, I had a hard time coming up with weird things about myself, but I just thought of one.  I sometimes don’t know the day of the week, and I certainly never know the date.  I guess it’s not that important in my little sphere (other than to know when “Under the Dome” or “Extant” are on), because every day is so much the same.  Maybe that’s a little weird in and of itself, like I am Bill Murray in the “GroundHog Day” movie.

Moving on, this week’s topic is:

What weirdest thing you do to relax?

Well, I do things like this.  I learn a tiny bit of something new from a friend, and then, even though I don’t quite understand it, or what I’m doing, I make the text of my entire post purple.  I would have made the font size bigger, but I couldn’t remember how.  Maybe in an upcoming edit.

One of the best things for me for stress relief is to try and do something new, something I have to concentrate really hard on.  This is called “building mastery” for all you DBT folks out there!  For example, when I was having my little mental health breakdown earlier this past month, I tried to teach myself to crochet.  It was a wicked failure, but it felt good to try and it definitely kept my mind off things.

And because I still have the supplies and the links MM sent me, I can whip out this project at any time.  I have a few needlepoints, too, that I should work on but it gets too complicated for me when the color of thread changes every fourth stitch.  Unrelated note, QoB is the ultimate needle-pointer.  Her hands are too bad to do it now (not sure she’d be able to find time, either), but back in the day, she rocked it.

Another thing I like to do when stressed is put lotion on my hands and then enjoy the smell.  Yes, that’s me over there, sniffing my hands.  It’s actually a combination of several DBT skills — distract, TIP/Chemistry, self-soothe.  My therapist could probably list off several more.

When I need to relax of calm down in a hurry, the best thing I can do is talk to someone.  Be it my mom, my dad, my sister, one of my online friends — I’ve really got to talk things out sometimes.  I think that’s pretty ordinary, though — venting about things.

My final answer to stress reduction is to clean my kitchen and dining room area.  These are the two areas where I spend the most time, so they get trashed out the most easily.  It usually only takes about ten minutes, just throwing some trash away and then unloading and reloading the dishwasher.  Those ten minutes, though, can save me from an entire day of antsy-pantsying.

Five Things of Thankful — Domestic Goddess Edition

As you may or may not have noticed, I am still down with the same bug that was plagueing me last week.  I pondered doing a Ten Things of Thankful — SickiePoo Version 2.0, but I just didn’t feel too inspired about it.  It had been pretty much the same ol’ week and I was pretty much grateful for the same things.

Before I went inpatient at our local psych hospital, my sister and Mom had helped me do a big deep-cleaning a my house.  Kinda airing out the bad DSB spirits (and smells), if you will.  When I was released from the hospital, I was very serious about keeping it clean and did so.  The first few days I was sick, I didn’t care.  About four days in, I started to care.  I mean REALLY care.

Who has more time to look at dirt or grime or goo than a sick person?  A trip from the computer room to the back bedroom takes you through the kitchen and living room, and right past the bathroom.  And you’re walking very slowly, trying to keep your balance and (some) of your dignity.  You see it all.  And if you’re like me and sit very still for long periods of time, trying not to be sick, you see even more.

So I started cleaning, bit by bit.  Doing this and that.  Today I did even more; not because I felt better, but because I’m going maddeningly stir crazy.  It occured to me that this week, there have been some Domestic Goddess products and appliances that I have greatly appreciated over the last 10 or so days.  I thought that, well, since I’m still being thankful and, well, it does still cover a week, that it would be okay if I put my own little spin on it.  Considering that I wrote a short novel for the intro (brain wander much?), I’ll keep the list short (only five…I feel like crap, people!) and to the point.

1) I am immensely grateful for paper towels.  This week they have been used to mop up spilled drinks, clean bathrooms, and blow my nose.  They have also been there for me during meal times when I heat my Ramen too hot.  I have always loved paper towels, much to the chagrin of green family members and friends, but there is so much to love!  I could probably do a post about the greatness of paper towels.  (Don’t worry, I won’t!)

 

Obviously, I would LIKE to give a shout-out to toilet paper next, but that’s not really related to this post.  SO, it’s not getting it’s own number, but HOORAY for good TP!

2) I am generally partial to 409, when it comes to serious anti-bacterial scrubbing, but my sister brought this (and left it here!) and it is by far the very best all-purpose antibacterial cleaner.  It takes greasy handprints off walls (thanks, DSB, the welder), spiffies up bathrooms in a hurry, and it doesn’t have a super over-powering scent.  We used almost this whole bottle in that one day, forsaking the loads of other cleaners we could have used.  This is the cleaner I have been using in my bathroom all week, so that if a non-sickie person went in there, they might have a smaller chance of ending up sickie.

 

 

3 &4) I am probably always going to be most thankful for my dishwasher.  There is nothing like having a trashed out kitchen and being able to get it totally sparkling with not a dish or papertowel in sight, if you only have a dishwasher and a trashcan.  I’ve got both!  The bonus is that the dishes come out super-clean and you (usually) don’t have to worry about stuff left sticking to the glasses.  I use this fantastic product (in addition to detergent), because I have very hard water.  Works like a dream!

5) Probably my most favorite Domestic Goddess tool is none other than the Kizzer dog.  She is great about cleaning up small messes, eating the  last bite of the banana, knowing when it’s time for a bone, jumping all over my dad (he hates dogs), and mostly just keeping me company.  I know that doesn’t qualify her as a cleaning product, persay, but she keeps me sane, and if were to not be sane, I probably wouldn’t be cleaning.  Amen to that.

 

A (Hopefully Not) Pissy Day

I’ve been up since 4:00 am.  This is not normal for me.  Usually I sleep until anywhere between 7:30 am and 8:00 am.  And if I took my meds kind late, sometimes until 10:00 am.  Considering that I fell asleep last night around 10:00 pm, it does not bode well for the day that I was up at 4:00 a.m.  More of that mixed bullshit that I seem to have to keep going through.

Now might not have been the best time to quit smoking, but other than hounding my mom for a cigarette yesterday, it has actually been going okay.  Okay, I’m white-knuckling it, to be honest, but at least I haven’t fallen back into the habit.  That’s just over three days, m’dears.  That’s a long time to a quitter and mere seconds to a normal person.

I’ve found that most people generally d0n’t want to give you any props until you have made some “real” progress, like smoke-free for at least one to three months.  Why that is — probably because most people relapse before then.  It doesn’t make sense to me, though.  Wouldn’t you think you would want to praise and encourage from the get-go, so that person feels supported.  The people I am talking about don’t read this blog, so I feel very comfortable sticking my middle finger out at them and screaming, “FUCK YOU!”

Hmmm…thought that would have made me feel a bit better, but it doesn’t.  Maybe it needs to be a face-to-face “fuck you,” although that probably wouldn’t be much good for the relationship.  I’ll just stick to saying it in my head.  Maybe out loud once or twice, shaking my fist at the sky.  Who knows.  This lack of cigarettes makes me crazy.

Speaking of quitting smoking, my mom and sister came over and we cleaned like crazy-women.  There is not a trace left of DSB or his stinkiness or the smell of smoke.  We took out rugs to go be professionally cleaned, washed all the drapes, the works.  My sister, being the young and limber and totally-in-shape person that she is went around my entire house on hands and knees and wiped off all my baseboards.  Mom used her floor scrubber vac on all the floors.  We vacuumed.  We dusted.  We threw a ton of shit away, including some nasty furniture.

It looks awesome, I must say, and I am very pleased.  Unfortunately for everyone involved, I was in a terrible mood and extremely stressed out.  I don’t know what I was stressed out for, other than it was change (but GOOD change) and it was like a “so-long-see-ya” tip of the hit to DSB.  I threw away a lot of his stuff.  I could have donated some of it, had it been cleaned up, bit was just so nasty and dirty.  Gah!

You don’t realize you’re living in a hell-hole until it gets cleaned up.  That’s kind of how I feel about things.  Kizzie was soooo cute on her new rug in the living room.  Wiggling all over it, doing her yoga stretches, rubbing her back.  And just laying there, totally content.  I think she missed having nice, clean, soft carpet to lay on.  That about did it for me right there.

So after getting into a disagreement with mom, upon whence she left and I retreated inside to rest and cry my eyes out, I sat in my living room and stared in awe at everything.  I really didn’t think we could get it this clean.  And then I cried some more and some more.  Then I got up and did a few last-minute chores and went to bed.  I was so tired, it wasn’t funny.  I could have probably not taken my sleeping pill and fallen asleep.  It is therefore strange that I was up at 4:00 a.m.

I work today, because Rock worked for me yesterday, as that was the only day my sister could get off.  I’ve never worked a hump-day in the store before but my guess is that it’s more of the same.  I’m no worried because Blue Cat and the Big Dawg will be there, so things should go pretty smoothly.  I think I’m going to try and lay down now for about an hour and see how that goes.  Hopefully I can get a bit more sleep!

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!

 

Bits and Ends

I made a promise to myself that I was going to post every day for the rest of the year, and I guess technically I am still posting tonight.  It just doesn’t feel like much.

I have all of these thoughts and feelings swirling around about a topic I can’t discuss on this blog.  I don’t know if he reads it, but it wouldn’t be right to put it out there.  To put it simply, my biological dad and I are just not on the same page.  That statement is probably not fair to him in some ways, maybe some of it’s me, but I can’t help but feel like an abandoned 6-year old, all over again.  That’s all I’m saying about that.

DSB is still in the hospital.  Pneumonia, severe.  It’s pretty bad, and the treatments for it make all sorts of other things worse.  He’s still gasping for air, I’m reminded of my grandfather, now that my mom has mentioned the similarity.  It brings back old feelings and sadness and such worry.  Extreme worry.  Nail-biting, hair-pulling worry.  And there is nothing I can do.  Nothing.  I’m getting help from QoB tomorrow (thank GOD for QoB and her ability to get a dirty house in fast order) to get the house all cleaned up for his homecoming, whenever that may be.  His doctors aren’t even setting a projected date yet.  DSB and his medical problems could fill every post for a month and I wouldn’t be done.  But I’m not going to burden anyone with that (although I seem to keep doing just that).

Related to DSB not being in the hospital, I am sleeping terribly.  I miss the feel and heat of him lying beside me.  Rascal, his pup, lies right up against me, but it’s just not the same.  DSB never licks my face like that, and he doesn’t shed.  They both fart in bed.  (tee-hee!)  In all seriousness, though, it is super-hard to not have him here.  I rely on him for so many things, that I didn’t even realize.  He is my left hand, he is my rock, he is everything to me.  And I can only see him in three or four hour increments, and he can’t talk for most of that, because he is trying to use oxygen.  It’s about to kill me, the being home alone.  It helps to go to my mom’s, but I’d rather be with DSB, even if I’m just watching TV in his hospital room while he gasps for air and mumbles something to me every so often.

It has come to my attention again today that I have great blog friends.  Emails back and forth, talking about things that are important, that aren’t important, that are.  I love it.  I love you guys.  I really do.

My sister goes back to work tomorrow, and, while I’ve asked for my share of prayers and shout-out’s to the Universe here lately, I ask that you think of her today, just for a minute, and wish her well.  It’s going to be hard for her, I know.  I wish I could live next door and just take care of that baby while she has to be gone, but it isn’t feasible.  I just want to fix it.  It’s probably not broken — my sister likes her work, but she loves that baby.

I am looking for good book recommendations.  I have a few on my Kindle that I’m getting ready to read, but I’m starting to commit myself to reading at least an hour every day, starting this coming Monday.  Suggestions and “holy-shit-stay-away-from-that’s” are welcome in the comments or by email.

Speaking of which, you should email me.  We should be friends.  I love my blog friends, as I said before, and I can never have enough.  So drop me a line, whydontcha.  RosieSmrtiePants at gmail dot com

I think that’s enough for a day.  My friend Bradley tells me he doesn’t like to read long posts and that most people don’t, and I tend to agree with that.  You should go say hi to Bradley, and check out the start of his series on his experiences with being homeless.  His series “Ten Days in Lockdown” about being hospitalized in a psychiatric facility is also very good.

We’ll cap it off here just above 700 words.  Do enjoy the video before you go.  Jack Johnson always soothes me.  Always has, always will.

The Key to My Contentment

I don’t want to brag, but my nephew is just over seven weeks old, and my sister just sent me some photos of him on  his tummy, and, I swear to you, the boy looks ready to scoot around, if not crawl.  Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I’m telling you, that’s the look on  his face.

I had a very productive day yesterday in which I completely cleaned my kitchen, including scrubbing down cabinets and baseboards, bleaching my counters, cleaning out my coffee pot, reorganizing tupperware, finding all of the missing kitchen towels and potholders and putting  them in their correct places, unloading and reloading my dishwasher twice, and watering all of the plants in my window garden.  I am pumped and ready to take on another day.

I also started and completed quite a bit of laundry, including putting away a mess of clothes that were clean and heaped up on my folding table.  My goal today is to get all of the laundry done, and to be able to see the floor.  My big motivation is that I keep finding quarters everywhere and it just may add up to enough to go buy a bunch of Lifesavers.  Wild cherry, preferably.

Sometimes it’s the little things in life that we take for granted, or the people in our life we take for granted.  DSB has ceased the invalid routine, and so I am rewarding him in many ways.  Mostly, by bribing him with fresh-brewed sweet tea and making excellent meals.  They do say a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and I think there’s a bit of truth in that.  If I can keep him happy, it’s a happier household.  Similarly, if I can keep myself busy and happy, then I’m less apt to be bitchy and unhelpful to the process.

The time changed on Sunday, as you all may know.  Or at least those living in the USA, other than Arizona, who does not participate.  Do other countries around the world do DST?  I must know, could Google it, but it would be so much more fun to hear about it in the comments section, along with how you adapt.

I was very concerned that DST was going to make me be late to everything, as I had overslept Sunday morning by a long shot.  I think it turns out that I was just overly tired, because I have been up since 5:30am (which is early for me) and feel completely refreshed.

Something new and wonderful is happening in my life.  DSB has decided that he wants to try and sleep in the same bed again.  Woot woot!  This may sound strange, but, with the exception of his first couple of weeks here, I have slept in bed and he has slept on the couch or the recliner, citing pain and waking me up incessantly.

Since that time, my sleep routine has stabilized quite a bit and he thought we could give it another go.  It has been absolutely wonderful to fall asleep with my elbow and hand resting on  his side (whereas, I generally propped myself up with Rascal, our dog), and I have been getting great sleep.  He has not, but he wants to keep trying.  He says the reason he is not sleeping has nothing to do with me, but everything to do with the chronic pain he deals with.

Even on the couch or the recliner, he has a lot of pain, so we were hoping it would be eased a bit by being in bed.  No such luck, but as I said, we’re going to keep trying.  Ideally, we could get one of those adjustable beds, but they are ridiculously expensive, so I guess we’ll just have to win the lottery first.  What is it they say?  You have to play to win?  Right, right.

To make the day simpler, and allow me to hopefully get out and get the car washed amongst all the laundry madness, I just put a nice pork roast in with a bunch of sauerkraut into the slow cooker.  We’ll have it over either baked potatoes or mashed potatoes and it will be delicious.  And easy!  So easy!

Maybe I’m a simple person, but getting things done and making a good meal and treating other people well makes me happy.  Simple or not, I will continue on, and, in keeping with my homework, will find a stranger today that I can give a random kindness to.  These things all add up.

Top Five Reasons My Housework Goes Unfinished

Many a blog have been written by me about my poor housekeeping skills.  My mother continues to nag about it, and has suggested I write about it, yet again, for the past two days.  Instead, I’m going to blog about the top five reasons housework doesn’t get done.  Because I can, and possibly, to shut her up (and I mean that in the nicest of ways).

1) I fear my lack of physical stamina to complete the task.

As you may or may not know, I’m a big girl.  I’m a very big girl that doesn’t exercise, parks as close as possible at the store, avoids stairs like the plague, and in general doesn’t move around much.  I also have asthma and smoke (no lecture needed…I know it’s bad), so my lungs are further compromised.  I get out of breath while dancing around, getting dressed in the morning.  My back tightens into an immovable ball after doing dishes for 30 minutes.  My feet ache constantly.  And I don’t like to feel this way, and most household tasks leave me feeling this way.  Most days, I can power through cleaning the kitchen, picking up odds and ends and putting them away, taking out the trash, changing around the laundry, making my bed, and going to the grocery store.  I just talk myself into it, and it’s done, and it doesn’t require so much effort that I am in a lot of pain or severely winded.  Pretty much the rest of required household tasks DO leave me in a lot of pain and/or severely winded, so I avoid, avoid, avoid, until it’s an emergency and then I need help.

2) I get distracted easily.

My mom tells a story about my inability to focus on cleaning and picking up my room when I was very small, and how my grandmother would always come over and sit on my bed, and lead me through the cleaning process step by step: “Rose, now come and put away these books.  Rose, stop reading and put them on the bookshelf.  Rose, stop climbing on the bookshelf and put this stuffed bear away.”  You get the idea.  I think needing that direction when I was young was ok, but now I almost need it as an adult.  I flail around when left to my own devices, but if DSB or my mom is to go through with me and say, “Okay, now clean the kitchen, and when you’re done, sweep the dining room and kitchen floors,” then I can manage better.  When I’m faced with a completely dirty and disorganized house, with the ENTIRE house being that way, I get extremely overwhelmed.  I really have to break things down into small steps, and it greatly helps when someone checks in on me to keep me on track, as much as I hate to admit it.

3) I have a lot of other interests.

This might sound like it goes under the category of number two, but I feel it is distinctly separate.  There are a lot of things I am interested in and that I spend considerable amounts of time doing.  The first and foremost reason I put off housework, is to spend time with DSB.  If he isn’t outside working, I am with him.  Usually this works well, because he is only inside for a couple of hours in the morning and then is outside until 4:00 or 5:00.  When that happens, I have most of the day to attend to chores (hypothetically) and other interests I am pursuing.  When he is in for the day, pretty much every productive thing I intended to do that day is shot.  I’m not saying it’s right or wrong, but it’s how it is.  I also am very into blogging and following (and commenting on) other blogs.  I read quite a bit.  I like to spend time with my Dad every week, and do something with Mom often.  I also have a j-o-b that takes me out for the meat of the day, three days a week.  I always have errands to run here and there, and I often am doing some therapy-related thing.  These things all take time away from cleaning, because I consider them to be more important.  I’m not saying that’s the best mindset to take, but again, it is what it is.

4) Cleaning floors frustrates, irritates, and confuses me.

I have two wonderful dogs, and one of those dogs is a big shedder.  I also have a medium sized back yard that, thanks to said dogs, is a mud pit pretty much year round, unless we’re in a drought.  If we are in a drought, it is made up of a very fine, powdery, dusty dirt.  With two dogs, and all that mud and dust, and dog hair, my floors don’t stay clean long.  Maybe 24 hours tops, if I’m lucky.  And within a few days and sometimes a few minutes, they are so dirty that they inspire fear in even the most fastidious of cleaners, QoB.  She has literally said, and I quote, “If my floors were like this every day, after every time it rained or didn’t rain, I would cry.  I would just cry.”  She is also amazed at the amount of dog hair that accumulates in even a tiny period of time.  As am I.  So, when it comes time to clean floors, it’s always a big mess, and you always have to mop twice, if not three times for them to come clean, and then even then sometimes they’re not really clean and you’re just left feeling confused.  And it lasts maybe 24 hours, as I said.  Who would that not frustrate?

5) DSB does not want QoB to help me unless I’m desperate.

This is perhaps the most vexing of all.  My mom knows me.  She knows I need a little push, a little foot up the ass.  She knows it helps immensely if she comes over and even just directs me and gives suggestions.  She knows how I get overwhelmed and, unlike DSB, she is empathetic.  DSB thinks I just need to “suck it up and do it.”  He doesn’t get it, and he admits that he doesn’t get it.  He doesn’t understand how it is so overwhelming that it paralyzes me.  He doesn’t understand why it takes me so long to clean when I do clean.  He says he can clean the house from top to bottom in two hours.  I know that is not possible, if you’re doing a good job.  When Mom does come over and help, whether it’s her actually helping me clean or her just giving me a pep talk, it is unbelievably helpful and there is no way I can repay her in any sense of the word.  Things get done when Mom is there.  Mom doesn’t want to make DSB mad, so I think a lot of times she doesn’t help when she otherwise would.  Recently, she came over and helped me get the house clean, and DSB didn’t even say anything about it.  Maybe he is beginning to understand how vital that direction, even that direct assistance is.  I’m not sure.  All I know is that sometimes, Mom CAN make it all better, and she often does.

 

I Need Ear Plugs

I’d just about give up my left big-toe right now to have a little silence.  I’m even thinking of going and sitting in my car.  Between DSB and his obsession with the TV, and the dogs going sideways because the neighbors happen to be hanging out in the driveway, and DSB’s phone ringing incessantly, and my blood thumping in my ears, I’m about to go a little haywire.

It’s been a busy week, a busy weekend, and I am still running on a sleep deficit.  I don’t feel very good physically, due to the lack of sleep, and the neighbors are about to not feel very good physically get an earful if they don’t get out of my yard.  I’m starting to feel more than a little cranky around the edges.

Really, why must there be such noise?

I almost took a nap today, but QoB called and I ripped off the ol’ CPAP, invited her over, and went off to find some pants.  It really turned out to be a good thing that she came over, because we got quite a bit done.  Or rather, QoB cleaned like the madwoman that she is and I helped do a few things, but otherwise sat around feeling ill and guilty for not helping much.

And I have ants.  Hopefully we took care of them, but mercy, there were quite a few.  When I told DSB, he was unimpressed and told me that he had advised me of such over a week ago.  Somehow I doubt that, but we must choose our battles, so I said, “Ok, hon,” and went back to doing dishes.  I really did do a lot of dishes today.  That I know as concrete fact, whereas it is remotely possible that DSB had already advised me of the ants a week ago.  Like I said, you pick your battles.

Another battle that I did not end up picking with DSB was that of the “miscellaneous computer crap” that has been piling up in my dining room over the last month.  QoB nipped that one in the bud and tucked it all away, nice and neat.  On a not-so-lovely note, DSB did not notice that it was all gone when he came inside.  Apparently chaos only drives ME insane.

My apologies that this post is all over the place.  I am suffering severe brain fog that I am hoping will remit, say, tomorrow, because I am positive I am going to get a good night’s sleep.  Cross your fingers and toes on that one.  I know I am.

 

Ain’t Nothing But a Procrastination Thang, Baby

I am the Queen of Procrastination.  I have heard others lay claim to the title, but no one does it quite like I can.  I have a few things on my to-do list today, and I am fully convinced that as long as I start within the next hour, I’ll be able to get them all accomplished.  I am probably deluding myself.

I didn’t get a good night’s sleep last night.  Mainly because I was freezing to death.  Even with plush sheets, two blankets, and a heavy comforter, it was unbearable.  And then of course you’ve gotta get up to pee.  It just wasn’t my night, and it was actually the third night of this.

Yesterday, I got wise and called my heating company.  They came in this morning and within 20 minutes, my heat was kicking on.  And I took that as a sign that I should take a nap.  I don’t think that is illogical thing.  Heat = sleep.

After my nap, I thought about cleaning the kitchen.  Then I looked at it, decided it wasn’t dirty enough to work on yet (aaack!), that it would only take 30 minutes instead of the allotted 60, and decided to show some blogs that I follow a little love.

Once that task was completed, I wandered into my laundry room.  Heeeey, guys, it’s not so bad in here!  So I threw what was into the dryer onto the folding table, threw the washer stuff into the dryer, hung up what couldn’t go in the dryer, and felt like I had accomplished a huge task.  That laundry room has nothing on me.

So, I still have to dust the entire house, clean the kitchen (not so dirty!), bring my plants in, and do a few more loads of laundry.  If I have time to spare, I’m gonna go all out and change the sheets on my bed.

It’s a quarter ’til 1:00 p.m. and if I can get all of that accomplished before 5:00 p.m. (when DSB returns to the house), I’ll feel pretty good.  And I’m fairly certain that will happen.  But right now, I think I should watch an episode of Grey’s Anatomy on Hulu.  Because I’ve got nothing but time, dontcha know?