Cleaning ALL the things
Posted on August 8th, 2014
This is–or was–my best old coping mechanism. Generally when kH found me cleaning baseboards at 10 PM, he knew to ask what was wrong. For me, it makes perfect sense.* In school, I couldn’t write a paper until the house was clean, and it wasn’t a delaying tactic. It’s that the environment had to be organized. (If I had to wait for the house to be clean to write now, I’d never write a word, so thankfully we’re past that. Mostly.)
In other news, our situation still stinks, it might be worse vis-a-vis my husband, but I am not crying all the time. Go team pharmacology.
A friend asked how we could possibly stand to live without a car (bear in mind this makes me a bad Portlander, but I don’t bike. I loved it as a kid–and would go for long, rural rides–but biking scares the bejeezus out of me now). I think my answer was something erudite like, “Well…we just live without a car for a while. I mean, this is Portland. We have buses and trains and streetcars and trams. It’ll be fine.” So no, I don’t like the idea of a three mile round trip walk to the library (or rather I won’t, once the ankle is better), but it will be fine. Eventually.
*My version of the Serenity Prayer goes like this:
“FSM, grant me the ability to accept the things I cannot control, the ability to recognize the things I can control (and clean and/or organize them), and the wisdom to know the difference.”