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Today was such a complete mental-health day. I almost feel guilty about how much I enjoyed it because M had to work from 9 to 3 5:30. So far he's had to work late three of four days of work. Retail hours suck. Anyway, not the point. He woke up at 7:30, and I tried to enjoy sleeping in but ended up laying in bed, staring at the window blinds and worrying while listening to him moving around the house getting ready for work. I finally got fed up with that and got out of bed. I was cleaning before M even left the house. I haven't done that in a while, but I used to clean house when I was feeling stressed out about something. I think it's probably a control issue.. there's a particular satisfaction in knowing that even if everything else is chaotic, you can still have shiny bathroom fixtures. In any case, I cleaned the worst of my fretting away, and by the afternoon, I'd done almost all of the laundry, and all of the cleaning minus the kitchen (M's job, and it's not very bad at the moment anyway) and the downstairs vacuuming. It was, in a strange way, the most relaxing day I've had since we moved.
Wouldn't it be nice if I could always find cleaning to be a soothing thing to do? I would totally have the cleanest house on the block. I always tease M that he made me so darned happy that I've lost all my favorite neurotic tendencies. I used to have the best titles (just short phrases that show up next to your name on a form of "who's online" list) on the muds--depressing as they could be, but good, if I do say so myself. Now I've had the same one for a year, and it's "True love arrives with Ben & Jerry's." Sappy, sappy, sappy. I hardly ever stress-clean anymore. I feel like a faker when I sing all my favorite songs--all my favorite songs are depressing. It's glorious, really, but don't tell him that--he has an ego problem as it is. :)
Anyway. M is watching TV downstairs, and I've been sitting here trying to write here but having very little luck coming up with anything futher to say about my bleach-laden day, so I think it would be nicer to go down there and try to decide what to tat next. I have two things in mind, but I don't have the thread for one and I don't have the perfect pattern for the other, and naturally both of them are things I'd like to have done ASAP. I really should get on that and stop putting stuff off.
Wouldn't it be nice if I could always find cleaning to be a soothing thing to do? I would totally have the cleanest house on the block. I always tease M that he made me so darned happy that I've lost all my favorite neurotic tendencies. I used to have the best titles (just short phrases that show up next to your name on a form of "who's online" list) on the muds--depressing as they could be, but good, if I do say so myself. Now I've had the same one for a year, and it's "True love arrives with Ben & Jerry's." Sappy, sappy, sappy. I hardly ever stress-clean anymore. I feel like a faker when I sing all my favorite songs--all my favorite songs are depressing. It's glorious, really, but don't tell him that--he has an ego problem as it is. :)
Anyway. M is watching TV downstairs, and I've been sitting here trying to write here but having very little luck coming up with anything futher to say about my bleach-laden day, so I think it would be nicer to go down there and try to decide what to tat next. I have two things in mind, but I don't have the thread for one and I don't have the perfect pattern for the other, and naturally both of them are things I'd like to have done ASAP. I really should get on that and stop putting stuff off.
