My problem is I really love having a neat and organized house. I just hate doing it.

Did you hand off the kittens, Matt?

Nope, still have them. He has my phone number now, so I don't know it it's second thoughts, objections from the Mrs., or just massive disorganization. I'm fine with keeping them for now, but if I sink money into vet bills they're mine for good.

I am a slattern, but I came by it honestly. My mom was not a housecleaner, nor are my sisters. My mom raised me to hire someone to come clean the house.

Cleaning overwhelms me. I'm compulsively tidy, but unless it's something that gets noticeable immediate results, like vacuuming, I hate it. I hate dusting, when it feels like you're just moving the dust around.

Amy, let us trade. I loathe anything floor related. But I can dust.

Living so near Mom has improved my general tidiness. Really, with thirty minutes (and the blessings that shutting a dishwasher full of dirty dishes offers), I can make it clean enough for a majority of people. But my stepmom and ex-aunt-in-law in the area a few days ago? We met at a restaurant for a lovely lunch. Because no way was I cleaning to that level. I don't think it's even possible. I do appreciate that I default to one level up from where I kept my place in Portland with Mom around though. Even if my floors really need all the attention.

I need my floors to be pretty clean. And dishes done. Luckily, I don't mind vacuuming and mopping and I don't find dishes onerous. But clutter, oh god, I need to have no flat surfaces on which things can accumulate. I do a bucket-shove cleaning (put a bucket at the edge of the table, shove everything into the bucket. Anything removed from bucket must find a home) every so often, but...

Don't even want to talk about dusting.

I sent my sister the email to the article you linked to Jesse, with just a note that it's pretty spot on, and she sent me a reply that has me sobbing way more than the article itself. I don't know how recursively more I can feel like shit just by virtue of people not thinking I'm shit, but at least there's a sane part of me that's just touched and honoured by her regard. Otherwise I'd go bonkers.

But I definitely need a stimulation break before I can reply to that, and I'm so glad I didn't read it at the office.

Maybe my pie is done baking. Yes, that'd be good.

I'll vacuum for you anytime, Cass.

she sent me a reply that has me sobbing way more than the article itself

Aw, ita.

I should set up some sort of cleaning parties with nearby friends. Set up a rotating schedule for all of us get together, help each other with housework. It sounds like a great idea in my head.

Mac, kiddo! Shape up! Do not make the wacky fairy gothmother you've never met come out there and have a stern talk with you!

That sounds like a great idea, Jilli. When I was a kid, sleepovers somehow came to involve polishing furniture and making elaborate breakfasts for the household where we were "sleeping" - it was actually fun!

And I'm pretty sure my friends wouldn't mock me for my irrational fear of the vacuum cleaner.

(If you're vacuuming, you can't hear if anything is sneaking up on you. I SAID it was irrational.)