I’m not able to clean my house. Let’s face it I’m doing well most of the time to keep myself clean and even that is a constant struggle.
Growler does such a lot of the household tasks already. Cleaning has sort of always been my contribution in the past – as he does washing, cooking and all the stuff I found difficult anyway because of my back problem. But I can’t clean now. I haven’t got the energy or the stamina.
So the house has been getting progressively more and more grotty. Growler hoovers regularly. But things like dusting, mopping floors, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning windows … have all fallen behind.
It’s a difficult house to keep clean anyway – it’s old and the windows are drafty which combined with a lot of building works around our house (all year round it seems!) really doesn’t help. Not to mention having a cat, old carpets, a slight damp problem and three adults knocking around the place.
I hatched a secret plan to clean just a little bit every day and quietly work my way through the house. It hasn’t been working. After a week of doing a little when I’m able in the bathroom – the stuff I cleaned at the beginning is already dirty again. So I tried to do a bit more yesterday – just to clean one corner of the bathroom floor, just a square foot. It ended with me sitting on the bathroom floor crying at the futility of it all.
It’s not just a pride thing, or a cosmetic thing – I am genuinely concerned about the health effects of living with dust and grot when I spend nearly every hour in this house.
I need help. It’s the only answer.
So I asked my brother (our lodger) if he would clean the bathroom this week sometime. And with Growlers encouragement wrote a list of chores that desperately need doing and pinned it on the fridge.
Today starts with Growler dusting and hoovering the lounge. I can hear the hoover in the room below me and later he comes to check on me a little flushed and grinning with pride from his housework exploits.
Now I can hear the whoosh of water from the taps and the gentle knocking of the bathroom getting a good scrub at the hands of my brother.
Through the wall I hear the efforts of cleaning as I sit in bed doing … nothing. Nothing except wrestle with some guilt pangs. First guilty that I am not able to keep my house clean. Second guilty that I am not able to just get up and get on with such tasks. Third guilty that I am subjecting other people to doing the cleaning. All of which are silly I know. There are things that need doing and people capable of doing them – so, that’s that.
So why do I feel so dirty?