Perfectionist
I’ve come to a realization: I clean when I’m frustrated.
I think it’s my way of trying to make my surroundings representative of what I want my head to be: organized, neat, a place for everything and everything in its place. A dirty house is the product of a dirty mind (no, not like that).
It probably doesn’t help that I’m a bit of a perfectionist and get annoyed when things aren’t done to my specifications. I suppose if you want something done right…
On the other hand, the manual labor involved in the process is amazing in terms of working through the frustration and cleaning up the mind. A clean house is the mark of a contented and well-arranged mind.
In other, completely unrelated news, my apartment is now spotless.
And I feel pretty damn good.
This post is tagged: apartment, clean
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My Google Reader
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While I’m rarely inspired to clean as a result of frustration, there is a certain sense of purification of the mind and spirit that comes over me when I do dishes — usually when I do other people’s dishes that I’m under no obligation to do.
Mmm, true. At least, once you get past the layer of food caked on the bottom.
Wow, you’re turning into your mother!!