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Wednesday, October 16, 2013

It's Time to Clean the Bathroom


I know my bathroom has two sinks because I took this pic when I bought the place.




My bathroom is a mess. 

Blow drying has left enough hair in the floor to keep Dolly Parton in wigs for the rest of her life.

The second sink is full of clothing, because I’d have to take another two or three steps into the closet to put it away. In the movie It's Complicated, Meryl Streep says "The second sink makes me sad." I never thought I felt bad about the "his" sink, but maybe it's a subconscious thing, and my mind just chooses to hide that sink by burying it in crap.

My tub is full of tealight candles. They’re supposed to be in the windowsill, but the cat likes to play tub hockey with them. 

The tiny adjoining toilet-room stores magazines and empty toilet paper tubes. The cat likes playing with those too. The tubes, not the magazines. 

The mirror looks gross, because the one time ever I hired a cleaning service, they used some magic product on it, that looked fine until the next time the mirror was cleaned. The combination of my products and theirs created a big smeared up mess.

And the countertop. Oh God, the countertop. You don't want to know.

My mom died in 2009. On her deathbed, she liked to wag her finger at me, grinning, and say, “I’ll be watching you.”

Mom was pretty obsessive about cleaning.

Last night I dreamed that I got up to go to the bathroom, and oddly, the door was closed. When I pushed to open it, it slammed shut from the inside. 

This was a little frightening, considering I live alone.

Then my mother emerged from the bathroom, and said “It wouldn’t kill you to clean your bathroom.”

It's late. I'm tired. But I'm off to clean the bathroom. 

Because it's a mess. And my mother is watching.