Get ready for what might be the strangest thing you’ve ever heard from me.
Yesterday was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.
Why, you ask?
Ready? Are you sitting down?
I spent it cleaning.
Yep, that’s right. I cleaned like a maniac. Well, for me, anyway. My kitchen was, to put it nicely, filthy. It is now sparkly and clean. Okay, so the counters, sink and stovetop are sparkly and clean. I didn’t quite get to the floor. It felt so good to look at it after hours of work (yes, hours) but the rest of the house was still trashed. I gave up for an hour or so and decided to put the rest off until another day. Then Mike called at 4:45 and said he’d be home by 5:30 and I just knew I could finish it by then.
So it’s still looking pretty cluttered in certain areas, but you can see the floor now and it’s not covered in crumbs and dust bunnies.
I get the feeling that regardless of what is wrong with me, this whole feeling down thing has become cyclical: I feel bad and so I don’t feel like cleaning my house. I don’t clean my house, it gets messy, which makes me feel bad. See what I mean?
Anyway, things aren’t perfect and I’m well aware that I’m still on a bit of a high from the results of my cleaning spree, but at least now I know. Apparently a good bit of productive cleaning – not the kind where you just move the mess around – is good for my mood.
A small step.