“Someone has OCD,” she chuckled.
I was describing to her how badly I needed to clean my apartment before she got here, but she was right; I obsessively and compulsively do a lot of things.
Cleaning isn’t usually one of them, but when I do get around to it – watch the fuck out.
I’m like a tweeker with cleaning supplies and a toothbrush when I get going, which is maybe why I don’t do it that often. It takes a lot of time to be thorough.
Then again, if I dusted and mopped and swept regularly, the task might not feel so insurmountable by the time I got to it. I guess I hate cleaning because I don’t know how to do it any other way than to really get in there and get it all tongued out.
Last time I vacuumed I broke my vacuum cleaner, so there’s the need to get a new one.
I need a new rug for my floor, check.
And then I just need to pick up the clutter, get all the dust out, vacuum the place, give the softwood floors a nice thorough scrubbing and do the bathroom and the kitchen.
Part of wanting a clean apartment is for my guest, yes. But most of it is for me. I want to finally feel as though this place I’ve lived in for nine years is an actual home instead of a place where I merely store my stuff and sleep. It has potential, but it also has chipping paint in the corner by the radiator, some scratches on the wood floors, and a host of other little things that could be easily improved upon with some work.
Along with some new fucking furniture.
I want a new bed, new sheets, and an actual desk that I can sit at to write instead of this old coffee table that I hunch over on a daily basis. All of these things would be good for my health, though not necessary.
I have to remind myself that while I love living alone and that I have enough space, a mattress on the floor will absolutely do.
I don’t need much, really – just a place to lay my head, a laptop and a place to cook my meals. I’m only home to write and eat and sleep, really. The city is my playground, and I’ve been proving more and more lately as I jump on my motorcycle and fly around the hills in search of good ramen and a walk on the beach.
To paraphrase my last girlfriend when she described her living situation, however: “I’m too old to live like this anymore. I want a home.”
And I agree, except the space I’m in is fine – it’s just the finer points that could use a little work. A new rug, some blackout curtains, and a thorough scrubbing and this place could feel completely different.
So having a guest coming soon is reminding me of all these things, and I’ve got a couple of weeks to get this place looking a little more homey. Not to mention she leaves less than a week before I go back East, and I do love coming home to a clean apartment.
Besides, a new rug would really tie the room together.
