Zen and Art of Household Maintenance

Being the awesome, full-of-life, adventurous soul that I am, I used the precious third day of my three-day weekend to.....clean my house.  That just sounds so. lame.  I didn't intend to.  My house was not that bad (comparatively) and I had fully intended to do something fun.  At a minimum read my book.  [I know you are going to ask: I'm reading Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Slayer.  Vampires! Abe Lincoln! Woo hoo!  Also, alleluia for the public library for having this book so I didn't have to spend money on it.  Even if the librarian who retrieved it for me from the hold desk looked liked she was going to have to go home and shower because she had to touch it (I figure she must be new, because that cannot be the worst book in the library) and even if it is the large-type version, which is really like reading ABRAHAM LINCOLN VAMPIRE SLAYER! As if my normally melodious inner-narrator went on summer vacation and was replaced by Great-Uncle Milt from the senior center who forgot to put in his hearing aid.] But then G. went outside to play and seemed happy, Moses had to go into work for a bit, and that insidious little voice in my head started thinking about the next three weeks which involve Moses on travel, the Imogene Pass Run (fourth time-go me!) lots of solo parenting (hello every single pick-up and drop off for school, marshall arts, and piano lessons) and then work travel for me.  I decided I'd clean for two hours and then quit.  But then it just felt so good, I gave into my latent OCD and kept going.  I cleaned all those little things that only take five minutes to deal with but you put them off because they are outside of the normal routine--like banishing 9-yr-old boy finger prints from the bathroom door frame, cleaning the brown spots off the wall where the dog likes to sleep, and--most satisfying of all--cleaning the dust off the floor moldings along the stairs.  I could just sigh with pleasure thinking about it.  I also bothered to do the regular stuff like clean bathrooms and vacuum and then actually put the clean clothes into the closet.  And I'll tell you what--it wasn't relaxing, but in terms of my mental health it was better than any spa day.  Next three weeks: bring it on.