Deep Clean

I am kind of a clean freak. No, actually, it drives me crazy when my apartment is a mess. Unfortunately, I don't have the funds to hire someone to clean, my husband doesn't care, and after working 45 or so hours a week, I am less than inspired to do much more than read a book and relax, so more often than not I bite my tongue and look the other way instead of acknowledging the mess that is my house.

Problem #1 is the fact that my dog emits a near-constant stream of loose fur. He's like Pigpen from Charlie Brown. I need someone to explain the biology behind the fact that my dog hasn't developed any bald spots, yet in a week I can collect enough fur with the vacuum to reconstruct another dog.

Problem #2 is the magnetic pull of the countertop next to the sink.  It's amazing to me. The sink can be empty, as well as the dishwasher, but somehow my husband's dishes miraculously end up next to the empty sink after every meal. I don't understand the aversion to the sink or dishwasher. It is almost as though cleaning vessels repel his dishes.

Problem #3 is the random sock distribution. When my husband or I get home for the day, my dog has this thing about parading around a shoe or a sock. I don't understand it, but it happens without fail. It is his thing. Unfortunately, my husband has a thing about taking off socks and not putting them in the hamper. The combination of these two habits mean that at any given time there are 7-9 individual socks scattered about.

Problem #4 is the aversion to like-item groupings. Some might say I am OCD. Really, I just watched a lot of Sesame Street..."One of these things is not like the other.....," you get the idea. Why, oh why would one feel inclined to put a bowl in a cabinet that is clearly designated for glasses? And why is mail in my silverware drawer? I'll tell you why- DH didn't watch Sesame Street and now he is fucked.

Last week, I deep cleaned my house. Like, up to my elbows in bleach, with a toothbrush, scouring grout in the shower. Emptying out all of the cabinets, scrubbing them, and re-organizing the spices by category. Vacuuming a German-Shepherds-worth of fur from the floor. Today, I realize that all of my efforts have not negated the existance of Problems #1-4. I am sitting in sweatpants not doing a damn thing about it. And at the moment, I don't care.