I'm a crazy person.
No seriously!
There are days when I get home from work and I simply do not want to change into workout clothes to do the one thing that makes me feel the best. Beer? no. Glass of wine? no. I mean I want. But no. Y*O*G*A.
Then there are days I'm bursting with so much energy I'm bouncing off the walls at work (my coworkers loooooove these days) *disclaimer at the end of post, and I get home, workout, clean the house, rearrange the thing I've already rearranged before, blog, read, write, watch, talk, tweet, and so on....and so on....like the duracell bunny!
Then, there's the day I find out my parents are coming to Dallas for a visit. Dun dun dun........you heard that music didn't you? The theme to Jaws? or.....the music they play in scary movies right before the dumb girl that's running, trips in the yard and then gets axed because that blade of grass was too tall for her to jump over? (you know I'm right, it always happens). Well, I'm not saying that my parents coming for a visit is like a swim in the ocean with a great white. What I'm saying is, why oh why do I get the urge to clean the entire apartment as though it's the dirtiest place on this planet? My apartment is not dirty people. I swear. But it's this whole "oh.my.God. the 'rents are coming!!!!! I MUST CLEAN ALL THE THINGS!" **
So I don't even eat when I get home from work today. I do put on the workout clothes. Hair in ponytail, game face on, I get alllll of the things out to clean with. Mops, paper towels, Pledge, Windex, Clorox wipes, Floor Cleaner, sponges, rubber gloves, a broom, vacuum, a screwdriver....I'm just kidding, I don't need a screwdriver.
Then, instead of taking my time and finishing one job at a time, I start everything at once. Who mops halfway, then vacuums, then dusts partially, then wipes down walls, then mops the other half, then scrubs, then .....sigh, I'm out of breath. But who does that? I'm in every room 10 times before it's all over. I just told a good friend today that I'm not obsessive, I just don't like dirt or clutter. My house is "lived-in", and you're welcome to throw a pillow, I won't get hives.
But the MOM and the DAD are coming! eek!
After I realized that I was acting like a maniac I calmed down, attempting to do one thing at a time. I still have two days for godsake. Visits like these make me want new things though, like the cherry wood cabinet the t.v. is sitting on in the living room for example. Beautiful it is. Love the cherry wood. But now I want that in my room, (to match the cherry wood sleigh bed), for my t.v. there, and thennnnn I want a new cabinet for the living room that's more suited to the size of that t.v. And I want a new chair to replace the black leather one that sticks out like a sore thumb, matches nothing, and is old. *cough* it was a gift, and yes friend if you're reading, I love the chair, (and you) it's just time to let it go. And then I want a mahogany desk for my room. And thennnnn I want a new painting for over the fireplace. I love the ocean scene that is there now, but I can move that elsewhere.
Do you understand what I'm saying? I start looking at my house with different eyes, and I want to flip it upside down and change things, then turn it rightside up and voila! everything is new and different. My loving friends tell me my house is inviting, cozy.....comfortable. I so appreciate them saying such things. Really.
Since I can't go out and buy all new things, I think I'll just start with the t.v. cabinet in the living room. Oh and I still need a new stereo.
But not before Friday. Mom and Dad will just have to settle for a v e r y clean apartment.
I get to fix them Breakfast at Tiffanys, YAY!! Very excited about that.
See you soon friend,
Tiffany
p.s. is it obsessive to mop walls?
*disclaimer: I have a feeling my coworkers don't really love me bouncing off the walls. But they do love ME. I just know it.
**"clean all the things" is a phrase dubbed by Allie Brosh, the most hilarious blogger/illustrator known to man. Go.Here.Now. http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-why-ill-never-be-adult.html
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