Been a Mad, Mad Girl
A strange sickness has overwhelmed me, compelling me in the direction of manic domesticity. This evening, in between fielding emailed questions and requests from the office, I baked a sourdough banana cake, mixed up two batches of sourdough bread (one extremely wet dough and one dry; I'm experimenting), washed all the rugs and carpets, vacuumed the apartment, got down on my knees and wiped every inch of floor, gave the shower room a thorough scrubbing, I've got chicken marinating in the fridge for tomorrow's lunch, and as I type this I've got a rejuvenating face mask on. All I need to complete the picture are cotton balls between my freshly painted toenails.
I realize this may be a "So what?" moment for some people. But you have to know me. Have you ever lived with a person who could drop, say, a sock or magazine on the floor and happily ignore it until it fossilized and melded with the linoleum? I do that. You know that thing called "making the bed"--what is that about? And although I do the dishes fairly regularly, I have to make little deals with myself, like, "You want a cup of tea? Not until you wash that mug in the sink." It's rather sad, but I've learned to live with myself. Unfortunately, my husband, who is something of a neat freak, hasn't had nearly as much time to come to terms with this slob called wife.
Just a second--time to take off my mask and turn my doughs.
Okay, I'm back. Wow, the dough that I made extra hydrated is looking like a milkshake puddle on the kitchen counter while the firm dough is standing a little too stiffly at attention. I hope I didn't go overboard. I'm feeling pessimistic because the banana cake I baked earlier came out gross. YES, there is such a thing as over-overripe bananas. I guess the mist of fruit flies drifting over the blackened lumps should have given it away... I'm kidding. I am. But you know what alarmist bananas are, going from Spring Green to Diseased Bumblebee overnight. Since there was still yellow visible, I thought they were doing okay. But, blech, you can smell and taste the over-overripeness of them in the cake. It's actually bitter. Very disappointing.
Anyhow, this unnatural desire to clean and tidy up (yes, I even picked up the sock petrifying on the floor; no, I did not make the bed), to be an admirable and organized homemaker, all these weird feelings will mercifully dissipate, most likely by tomorrow. Or now.
I realize this may be a "So what?" moment for some people. But you have to know me. Have you ever lived with a person who could drop, say, a sock or magazine on the floor and happily ignore it until it fossilized and melded with the linoleum? I do that. You know that thing called "making the bed"--what is that about? And although I do the dishes fairly regularly, I have to make little deals with myself, like, "You want a cup of tea? Not until you wash that mug in the sink." It's rather sad, but I've learned to live with myself. Unfortunately, my husband, who is something of a neat freak, hasn't had nearly as much time to come to terms with this slob called wife.
Just a second--time to take off my mask and turn my doughs.
Okay, I'm back. Wow, the dough that I made extra hydrated is looking like a milkshake puddle on the kitchen counter while the firm dough is standing a little too stiffly at attention. I hope I didn't go overboard. I'm feeling pessimistic because the banana cake I baked earlier came out gross. YES, there is such a thing as over-overripe bananas. I guess the mist of fruit flies drifting over the blackened lumps should have given it away... I'm kidding. I am. But you know what alarmist bananas are, going from Spring Green to Diseased Bumblebee overnight. Since there was still yellow visible, I thought they were doing okay. But, blech, you can smell and taste the over-overripeness of them in the cake. It's actually bitter. Very disappointing.
Anyhow, this unnatural desire to clean and tidy up (yes, I even picked up the sock petrifying on the floor; no, I did not make the bed), to be an admirable and organized homemaker, all these weird feelings will mercifully dissipate, most likely by tomorrow. Or now.
8 Comments:
Gee...wish I could catch what you have! :)
As i can see the spirit of the domestic goddess entered your body.
It's a shame that it didint work as you've had expected with all the work you managed to do at the same time.
Love
Fanny
I wouldn't mind a few of those germs, myself.. currently my suitcase is lying in the middle of my bedroom floor, spewing dirty clothes and random traveling accoutrements, and I have no desire to clean it up. None whatsoever. :-) Can you bottle up this urge that you have?
Last night at 1am, I was looking for my magazine to read, and realized that it's not on my bed, so must be somewhere below my bed. And guess what, I found 6 magazines under my bed, and my foot cream that I convinced myself that I finished using it, but there it was, still half a tube left. Rach, I can't say I haven't seen those socks on the floor in your college dorm. I don't know what's wrong with me, you'd think living alone in a small apartment is easy maintenance right? Wrong, I used to do laundry once every two weeks, it became once every three weeks, then once every four. Same goes with vacuuming....what can I say, I am just plain sloppy...
from Nan
You want to come and clean my place?
I too was amazed at myself, but you all have to understand, like a total solar eclipse, such behavior on my part will never be witnessed in this lifetime again. That's why I felt compelled to record it.
So for anyone hoping I'd come over and clean your place, I'm afraid the feeling has already passed.
Cathy, these one-shot deals are never as great as they sound. A couple of days from now, my home will once again be in shambles.
Hi Fanny, yes, I too was mystified as to why the domestic godess was not a better baker. Terribly disappointing.
Geez, Hsin-Li, I thought *I* was unnatural. I have to side with Danny--I sometimes wish Akito would be just a tad more tolerant of mess and disorder.
Jessica, sounds like you and I are the same. At the risk of outright horrifying everybody, I've been known to leave my open suitcase on the floor and start using it like a extra substitute drawer, just because I can't find the desire to put everything away.
Nan, the bed is a devious place. It's totally natural for tons of stuff to build up under there. Don't blame yourself! And it's hard to get motivated to do the laundry when the laundry isn't in your home.
Jaime, I'm afraid my answer is: not really. But nice try.
from Rachel
Ahhh, Rach, you and I are the same species. Every once in a while I get the urge to reorganize my kitchen cabinet (usually coinciding with the cleaning lady's visit) or take photo inventory of my shoes, but for the most part, I'm happy to leave things the way they are.
And what is that about making the bed? You are going to sleep in it again! Unless you are changing the sheet, I don't see the point!
Nan, was that you who made that last comment?
from Rachel