Witchy Woman

In case it wasn't already obvious, I am severely cleaning/organizationally challenged.  After all, who cares about the pile of seed and crap under the birdcage when I have an Elizabethan court gown to sew?  If it's a choice between cleaning and playing with silk and velvet, the cleaning will almost always lose.  That is, until the OCD's CMB beats the ADD's CMD, and then it's time to CLEAN ALL THE THINGS!  To prevent the twitchy-eyed monster from taking over my crafting time, I developed these habits to trick my mind into thinking it's not really cleaning.

1.  It's Dangerous to go Alone, Take this

If I'm going into the kitchen, I take cups, plates, dishes and any other odds and ends that belong in there.  Say that the kitchen is merely on my way to the bathroom, I deposit said dishes into the sink and/or dishwasher.  I pick up the new tube of toothpaste and stack of towels that were folded and waiting to be put away.  On my way back to the living room, I collect the books that made their way to the bathroom over my last couple of visits.

2.  There is no Spoon

Who else here hates to unload the dishwasher?  Do you sneak the item that you need without taking anything else?  Stop lying.  You know you do it.  Everybody does, and that's ok.  I take a few dishes out along with the one I need and put them away.  If it's just a spoon, then I take a whole handful of silverware.

3.  Zombie Washcloths

I scrub down the kitchen with my washcloths and then toss them in the laundry.  They sit there, waiting, watching, staring, molding and stinking.  Then I realize that the laundry should get done.  If I used only one or two washcloths at a time, they would gradually accumulate in the dirty clothes pile, which can wait just one more day.  By that point, the damage is done.  There's an odour that haunts my dreams.  The stank of the dead washcloth come back to life.  This way I can avoid the reek of zombie rags and hey, clean laundry!

4.  Create Obstacle Courses

My blinders are remarkable for blocking something from sight until I trip over it.  So to make sure that I remember to do it, I place it deliberately in the way.  Folded clothes are stacked on the stairs.  In order to pass, I have to take an armful.  Think of it as a game, like Calvinball or Ironman Croquet.  For added hilarity and bonus points, play it with your partner/roommate...  without telling them.

*Please note that the administration is not responsible for any injuries, trauma (physical or mental), or asthma attacks incurred by uncontrollable maniacal laughter.

5. One Day at a Time

I suffer from anxiety and bipolar disorder, which means that when faced with the daunting prospect of a 2-story/3 bedroom house that looks like it's been "tossed" (as per my crime-show addicted parents' description) because its sole occupant is recovering from a two week bout of depression my ability to face it becomes non-existent.  My Martha Stewart-esque mother raised me with the mentality of all the cleaning had to be done on the weekend.  Unfortunately, when my weekends are usually filled with camping, and my work schedule was designed by MC Escher on LSD, combined with my aforementioned maladies this is a recipe for disaster.  After 29 years of this, I only recently came to realize that I don't have to clean the whole freaking house at once!  Each room gets tackled on a different day of the week, with the bigger and messier rooms assigned to when I have more than a single day off at a time.  Sure, the living room's still buried in camping gear from last weekend and the current sewing project, but the kitchen is fabulous.  That's a clean mother-freakin' kitchen if you ever saw one.