Cleaning My Room: The Eternal Battle

Cleanliness, it is considered an art form, a religion, a duty or something that needs to be done.  To some cleaning is the only way to begin their day while to others it is something done because it has to be done. BUT to a logical, environmental and sane person like me (watches Mom’s eyes roll) cleaning is done only when the target is dirty, if something is not dirty it is not being cleaned. Remember staying over clean makes us much more vulnerable to random diseases, pigs roll around in the mud all day… They are thriving aren’t they? But they are currently spreading the swine flu…. Now I lost my point lol

My dad decided to move us to a new town where we are currently staying , this town is wonderful but the standard of living is much higher than the earlier town so as expected everything from food, rent, clothes, luxuries and maids were overpriced. Dad insisted on getting  a maid to help my mother with the chores but after talking to a few maids and listening to their price quotations, mother was aghast at the thought of over paying a woman to do the chores and then be expected to make sure that the woman does the job. All of us were grown ups (well most of us) so mother decided that each was responsible for their own rooms. I could not agree more as I did not like the idea of a stranger going through my room, it would not be good either if she croaked under a pile of laundry.  Because our family was always on the move furniture was chosen ever so warily and so out of true rebellious spirit I opted to use our ancient refrigerator as my closet to house only the best of my clothes while the rest of my stuff stayed inside cartons. Well we know what happens when teens and lack of furniture mix… Yep, I managed to change the interiors of my room, i no longer had stone cold floors but instead I had soft slippery floors made of cotton, wool/nylon and sometimes paper. Stuffed animals became paper weights while bedsheets became curtains. When I was in my depression phase I would sometimes crawl into the same huge carton that housed my clothes just because my bed had too much Kleenex, memorabilia, books and other junk. D found my room interesting and “cool” while my parents were obviously very repulsed by it.

It was when D was with me that we were diagnosed with a very serious condition that stays within us until we die, it is called ignavus pug pyga or commonly known as the dreaded “lazy ass disease”. The instant it set into us we were rendered useless until we gained control over our senses once more. Depression is the easiest way for the lazy ass disease to set in.

We shifted to the current place a few months later, the timing was perfect for I had just paid off the installments for my computer and thus had funds for buying myself a sexy closet. For the first time in years my denims did not have dual roles of pillow cum butt warmer. But like I said earlier I was never to be cured for my lazy ass disease so it was not long before my huge room was covered with every thing from clothes, books, shoes, cats, paper and now a new family “dishes”.

If I must describe my room in one word, it would be “hellhole“. You could get lost anywhere or lose anything in this abyss what with all the furry furniture and undead belongings crawling out of their caves.If the undead laundry does not kill you or the furry furniture choke you then the heat will definitely kill you because my room is ALWAYS HOT. My room is on the third floor of the building so it is practically like living in an apartment of my own. Ranging from my own stuff, toiletries, cleaning tools, bathroom and of course  separate internet connection. But the dishes are always in the kitchen which is on the first floor so once those dishes reach my room, it is best if you forget about them like I do. BUT there is another side to me, i am a stickler for perfection (imagining my readers chortling and choking) If I do something it has to be perfect or else I will not do it right or bother with it at all and that is the reason why the lazy ass disease hits me harder than ever (My friend will provide enough proof on how my O.C.D acts).

So typically I clean my room like a serf devoted to its master scrubbing every corner, mopping every tile, scouring every dish I can find and attempt at brushing off every single hair I can find and I usually find it in heaps before, during and after the cleaning. After 20-30 minutes of toil my room smells pine fresh and feels oh so heavenly, then as I let the children in I watch with pain the room getting furry again starting from the bed which they all love sleeping on. They also find the need to have wrestling matches ONLY after the room looks safe (Must be because they are no longer scared of the undead creatures in my room and wish to celebrate). After about an hour or two of cleanliness I suddenly realize that I need something… Hmmm This is where the problem truly begins, like I mentioned earlier I tend to enter “O.C.D zone” when doing things. Everything has a particular algorithm which involves moving things from one shelf to another, rearranging things according to a set of rules, if needed furniture is moved which leaves my room more efficient (scoffs). So where is the problem?? Well every time I clean my room the algorithm changes so my things don’t have a fixed space or order. So in less than 3-4 days I successfully rip my room apart in search of all things glory and mighty which lay motionless on a cupboard or table after the battle.

But the good thing is that once I get in the motion of cleaning my room everyday I tend to keep the room obnoxiously clean 25 days out of 31 while I use the 5 days to revisit my dark side. Lately since the last week and a half my room has been clean which means that I am back on the good side (for now). The even better news is that school starts in a month so I will hardly have the time to mess my room up (When you hardly touch things in your room, they tend to stay clean and safe). **Looks at shoulder high pile of laundry and rainfall flooded floor while trying to ignore the ominous smell of the undead** I guess it is time to get some cleaning done.

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