Lyda here. Just a quick post before I return to my
cleaning obsession beautifying my home…
As planned, on Friday I started cleaning the Living Room of Despair. Moved a few things to the garage. Gathered the fiber and took it to the safety of the bedroom. I was very annoyed that work prevented me from spending the day cleaning, but I did a few things before work and more when I got home.
Saturday I got up at 6:30 and got to cleaning again. Yup, six thirty in the morning. Because I am insane. I must have mentioned this before…
I started with the tall bookcase in the corner and worked my way around the room. Progress was slow, because not only did I clean and dust every surface, I also evaluated every book.
For fiction, I asked myself: Did I love this book? Does it make me smile to see it again? Do I want to read it again right now? I hope ya’ll appreciate the Herculean effort involved in not actually getting sucked into a book. I think I strained something in my brain…
For non-fiction, I asked myself: Am I still interested in this topic? If so, is this a good book on the subject? Is it well-written? Is it still current? Will I ever read it or refer to it again? In other words, do I give a fuck?
I discovered I had a lot of books that I intended to read sometime, but never had. Books I had been given, books I had bought on advice of others, books I got cheap at a sale. And I had a lot of books that no longer interest me, books that for me have lost their charm or their relevance.
Mostly I discovered I had a lot of books.
I was ruthless in eliminating what we shall call the meh books. This required a fierce mindset, and an unwavering determination.
And why is Ruth never here when I need her? Actually, I don’t even know anyone named Ruth. And if I did, I would be tempted to make jokes all the time. “Since you weren’t here, we ruthlessly went to a movie.” I blame GAAE brother for this particular insanity.
But I digress…
By Saturday afternoon, I had a growing pile of discards, and a small pile of treasures. And, oh yeah, a rearranged living room. Big bookcase is now in my bedroom, waiting to be filled again with goodies. Stereo cabinet from Ikea, where Obsessive Overcleaners shop, in the corner.
While I was at it, I went through the music and eliminated old cassette tapes and some weird CDs. I went through the movies and actually found a few to get rid of (and a couple to send to Anna-Liza’s kids – hey, BFF, do you still have a VCR?).
I washed the molding. I dusted the corners. I dusted the walls. Ya’ll know, when you move a piece of furniture and discover cat hair covering the wall it was hiding? Oh. Uh. Um. Is that just my house? Never mind.
I vacuumed the carpet, the couch, and the cat. Okay, I’m kidding about the cat. Do ya’ll really think Tommy the Sith apprentice would put up with that? He’d use the Force to choke me with the cord, ya’ll.
I woke up at 1:30 this morning with a strong urge to get up and get back to work. One-thirty. Oh, help. I forced myself to go back to sleep. It wasn’t easy.
I did get up at 6:30 again, and immediately started cleaning again. Well, I brushed my teeth and stuff first, and put on clothes. Nightgowns and deep cleaning don’t mix.
The huge pile of discarded books is now in the garage, awaiting a garage sale or donation or whatever. I don’t have to decide that right now. I took a picture of it all, because I don’t think ya’ll will believe how many books I’m getting rid of. But I don’t have the picture yet, so I’ll just tell you – there were at least twenty grocery bags full. Maybe more. Really.
So here I am, it’s 4 p.m. on Sunday, and my living room is completely clean. I haven’t put all the book back onto the shelves, but that is my next trick.
My living room is a happy healthy place again. It is less cluttered, and it is CLEAN.
Except for the venetian blinds. Because, ya’ll, I’m not THAT crazy that I’d clean the blinds too. Not on the same day as the rest. Even Obsessed Overcleaners know that blinds are a whole day in and of themselves. I will resist the temptation to call in sick to work tomorrow and do the blinds.
And the carpet desperately needs to be professionally cleaned.
And then there is the rest of the house, each room and cabinet clamoring for its turn.
An Overcleaner’s work is never done.