Generally, my cleaning regiment is tailored to ensure that at least half of my common spaces provide me refuge from constant clutter and madness. The formula is as follows:
Office - It WOULD be clean, if the boys would stop putting all the stuff they don't know what to do with in it, which makes it almost can't-even-function cluttered.
Kitchen - Clean, always clean!
Bedroom - not so much always clean, but occasionally clean. To quote my father Dr. Phil "It appears as if another tornado has landed... really close to us... in fact, it seems to have only hit a small area - your room!" But, anytime I am actually at home for more than an hour (not counting sleep time), I clean it.
Bathroom - Clean, must be clean, unless I am held captive or fall ill and I can’t get to it for some unearthly reason, it gets a deep cleaning every week, at a minimum...
Car - Um, have you ever seen that FRIENDS episode where Ross dates Rebecca Romijn and he goes to her apartment and can't find a place to sit down? Well, my car… it's only slighter cleaner than that, most days. Animals could be nesting in there for all I know. And if I ever get stranded I could, almost assuredly, find SOMETHING to eat in it?
Landscaping/front yard/back yard - if I had one, it would be clean, with a hammock and poppies planted in it.
City/State - You see, here where the problem lies. You would think after all the money I have shelled out to various and sundry municipalities, in street sweeping fines, that this city would "shine like the top of the Chrysler Building"! But, I still see debris!
So, as I walked out to my lone car and saw my 9,348th street sweeping ticket this morning, I had two thoughts:
(1) How does everyone always remember which days to move their cars to the other side of the street?!?
(2) I am not so bright.
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