I cleaned my house today.  I am not the best homemaker. Saying that my house looks like a bachelor lives here is an insult to some of my bachelor friends who are much better decorators and home engineers than myself. I do want to hire a person to clean my home, but I do have an issue hiring someone to do a job that I know that I should be capable of doing.  Hiring someone seems to be a chore in itself,  because I realize that I will have to clean my home from top to bottom, just so my cleaning person doesn’t pre-judge the person that I am. Not that I’m hung up on what people think of me, but for some reason I don’t want a complete stranger to think I’m dirty. Interestingly, I am totally fine with friends and family thinking this of me.

My inability to home make might be related to issues with my attention span for the minutia. My regard for detail is incredibly compromised and down right broken. I might be the opposite of a person with a super power. I believe that I can only rely on one of my senses at a given time. For example, when I am focused on breathing, my sight fogs ever so slightly around the edges. I don’t think glasses will fix this.

Today, when I was cleaning the bottom of my window sill  I noticed that that there was a spot that I have not seen and cleaned for the past 5 years, on 5 panes of glass in my living room. This was a substantial spot I did not see that had collected all that was bad, disgusting, and evil. Anyone else would have spotted this when they entered my home almost immediately. The fact that I was blind to this large spot of window for so long makes much more sense to why my past relationships have ended in failure.

I dedicated my focus and attempted to undue what time and dog hair had done to my window crevice. I worked for a while. And I grew tired. I thought to myself, is there an acceptable amount of crud that is forgivable? I hated that I was having this internal argument with myself, because I knew the answer. No, clean this shit up! But still I debated the question with myself, because my standards might be different since I can just pull the curtain and hid the window, until the next sunny day.

I am also notorious for shoving as much stuff as I can fit in my closets and storage spaces and shutting the doors to give the illusion that my house is organized, please don’t open the closet doors or my cupboards though. I imagine that  neurosurgeons would find the same horrific sight if they opened my skull, they would diligently try to close me back up in an attempt to not have an avalanche of ill fitted bits and pieces of information that I shoved into my brain hurriedly with the intent to come back later and fit it or organize it into a better location, but didn’t. It makes sense that as I attempt to explain simple concepts to others that I often take longer than usual exploring tangents like I do when I open the junk door in my kitchen, asking myself when did I put that in there and why?

Is there acceptable amount? No. But it seems I have a bunch of it and it wants to make friends. I do watch the California Closets info commercials with childlike wonder. Perhaps, some day I will grow up to be like the people in those ads, so perfectly put together. Until then I will spot clean those areas of my home that get away from me, along with my mind. I will keep my closet doors shut for now and hope to eventually find  a person with an eye for detail needed to help clean my home that is in possession of a magic wand and a non-judgmental heart.