I have had a full-fledged, in-my-face reminder of the fact that I am a slob. A reminder of how a week of minimal/survival effort followed by two days of full-on neglect can create a kitchen worthy of starting a blog called A Slob Comes Clean.
Last night, I had the all-too-familiar feeling of frustration come over me as hubby and I tried to gather what we needed to take to a Father’s Day get-together and couldn’t find any counter space to put things. So much for the inspiration I felt when I thought people were coming to my house.
This morning, I did empty the dishwasher. I did load it again. But still, the kitchen was a total disaster.
This afternoon, partly because of a noble desire to not start the crazy week of VBS with a wreck of a kitchen, but also partly out of a desire to not have to edit chaos out of any pictures we might take tonight while we have a “just us” Father’s Day dinner, I cleaned up the kitchen. It isn’t perfect, but what a difference an hour makes.
And the reason it took an entire hour was that I got crazy and started cleaning out the fridge. Hubby had removed the myriad of produce bags from the vegetable drawer. See, I tend to remove the veggies, but leave the empty plastic bags in the drawer. It makes no sense, I know. I KNOW!
Anyway, when I noticed that the bags were gone, I could see how badly the drawers needed to be cleaned. It was bad. I even removed a Ziploc bag of salt-dough that I had put in the bottom of a drawer when I needed it to harden a little before making Christmas ornaments. And it wasn’t for Christmas ’09. I’m choosing to not do any math and figure out which Christmas it was for exactly.
But now, those drawers are sparkly clean and back in place. The whole fridge could use a similar cleaning, but I’m going to enjoy those drawers for the moment. I tend to either not do anything because I “don’t have the time to do it all . . . the right way” or I pull everything out of the entire fridge, covering the counters and then letting myself get overwhelmed with the hugeness of the job . . . and then I quit.
The fact that my kitchen was in this state is frustrating and a little depressing to me. However, I could also see that my mind has changed in the past year. I couldn’t pretend that it didn’t exist. I didn’t have that nagging feeling of pointlessness in the back of my mind while I was cleaning. This chaotic state used to be my normal. A clean kitchen was fleeting.
Now, a clean kitchen is kind-of-sort-of my normal.