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Coffee Break with Liz and Kate » Headline, »

write my law essay questions

As you may know, Kate did a piece a couple of weeks ago, where she’d found the perfect way to clean house, etc. Unfortunately, I took the bait, followed the link, and decided that I, too, could make my house everything I wanted it to be.

Forget that she was getting massive emails to achieve this perfection. I’d just delete them.

But somewhere along the way, I got sucked in to the wicked world of shiny sinks.

Don’t misunderstand me – on its face, it isn’t that bad. You shine your sink every night, you wake up to a shiny sink, and all is right with the world. You declutter little by little and before you know it, your house is a FLY house, if you will.

Now the original Flylady will insist that our homes didn’t become the catch-alls they are (OK, the catch-alls that mine is) overnight. So likewise you can’t expect all that clutter to disappear overnight.

Sounds like a diet plan, doesn’t it?

Don’t get me wrong, here. I LOVE the Flylady’s plan. It’s just that I am a messy perfectionist.

There. I said it. I hope you’re happy. I can guarantee you my mother is not.

But as a messy perfectionist, I can tell you that decluttering and putting a time limit on it is great in the beginning, but I tend to set that 15-minute timer for 15 more minutes, then 30, then an hour, and before I know it, the day is gone, I’m exhausted and the house, alas, is still not perfect. And somewhere in all this is a little voice that says perfection can be reached in a day – regardless of how much time I’ve wasted in a cluttered environment.

But as I clean, and since my living is made as a writer, I think about all the writing still to be done, and the guilt sets in, knowing that I’ve spent a day cleaning. Within the guilt, I feel this overwhelming need to keep cleaning. Because the floor may be mopped and the sink may be shiny, but the baseboards are dusty and I’ve written nothing.

Double guilt.

Plus which, I HATE doing laundry. Well, let’s be more specific. I hate putting it away.

And from there, the tangled web that is my housekeeping guilt knots up even tighter.

But let there be no mistake. My sink is shiny. I hope you’re happy.


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