I discovered a secret today, a nasty little secret. There is a reason why people don’t like to clean. It’s not because it’s hard work. It’s not because we’re lazy. It’s because no matter how far up along the road to neatness one goes, the mountain, the pinnacle is always so far off in the distance. There is no scaling it.
Today, pipes were brazed. Today, front garden beds were stripped of sod. Today, cupboards were cleaned out, sponged off, and treated for moths. Right up until 9pm, starting from 10 in the morning. And this was still not enough time with four people–four!– to do everything… aquariums and water beds still call out to be filled. Tiled living rooms beg for mopping. More garden beds wail, wanting weeding. Shelves must still be put up. Piles of stuff need to find homes. And then the vacuuming. And then the painting. And then the toilet replacement.
No, it will never end. Problem stacks upon problem, and there is no beating it back once the cascade has begun. There is a point of no return on housework. Exhaustion topples those who venture toward that lonely mountain of cleanliness, and despair claims the rest. Tomorrow? I’ll be doing laundry.