I'm procrastinating. I have about an hour before I have to make a trip to Tacoma, and I should be working on my presentations for the staff retreat tomorrow.
I work best under pressure, though I sometimes push it a little too far and almost kill myself to make a deadline.
When I'm working on deadline, I'm in a zone. I think the house could crash down around me and I'd barely notice. When I step back and look at what is happening from an outside point of view, I imagine people would think I'm insane. Maybe I am.
There's a quote from the movie Barfly, "Anyone who could ever write worth a damn could never write in peace."
I should have a house full of Pulitzers.
Here's what my day looks like:
I run Sean where he has to be, come home and work a couple of hours, then rush back out to pick him up. We get home, and Sean and his friends play nerf guns, complete with sound effects and whoops and screams, trampling through the house to take cover, or hide. Nerf bullets whiz through the air, sometimes past my head. They call out to me for more juice, a snack that is out of reach, or help fixing a jammed nerf gun. They argue, they yell, sometimes one of them gets hurt and I have to intervene. This all takes place around me as I write and edit.
So this is my life. And I love it. Some days not as much as others, but all told, I like having children around me. In fact, I prefer this over an office filled with adults who ACT like children--and not in a good way.
Now, I have never been a great housekeeper. I just admit it. I like having a clean home, I just am not very good at keeping it that way. And during deadline? you can forget about it. Once deadline is over, I'm a cleaning fool. All those things that didn't get done, like sweeping, mopping, taking out the recycle (I can't deal with trash, so we do get that outta here) laundry, vacuuming, all of that gets done the day after I'm off deadline.
Not so long ago, I would have never let anyone into my home in the condition it is in today. It is in a shambles. Sean's shoes are scattered in the middle of the floor, together mind you, but still in the middle of the floor. There's stuff on the dining room table, there's a bike in the entry and you can barely get the door open, we have a large cooler sitting in the area between my bedroom and the kitchen, and there is junk, wrappers, and small toys on the coffee table. Oh, and those nerf guns are everywhere in the living room--chair, sofa, table, floor, everywhere. He has an arsenal. (Don't like guns? Don't come here. I have done my best to be a peace teacher, it ain't happenin' here. This boy has guns in his blood. I keep trying though. I'll post about this gun thing soon.)
So, as I said, not so long ago I would never have let anyone in when the house is in this kind of shape.
Today a neighbor called to say she was bringing a catalog over.
Maybe it's the fatigue from working non-stop for days on end, maybe it's the insanity, a possibility I referred to already, or maybe I'm just ready to say &^%% it. You don't like it, I don't care. You have a problem with the way my house looks, then come on over and we'll have a cleaning party.
She came over, and I invited her in. Yep, I invited her INSIDE. She didn't really come in. She stood at the door, but she had full view of the whole mess. She seemed OK, but I wonder if inside she was horrified.:o)
Some people can do all of what I do and still maintain a beautiful home. I admit that I wish I could. I have just gotten to the point of acceptance. I accept that I can't, and I'm still OK. You know what? The world hasn't come to a screeching halt because I'm not a good housekeeper. Nobody has died because we have stuff on the table, and I don't think I'm a bad person because I have dishes in the sink.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Maybe. I tend to think I'm pretty close to God, and I see a lot of people who are pretty uptight about being clean and they don't seem to have that Godly glow.
Oh, and I didn't even talk about the back yard. I hope rain is not in the forecast. The yard. Now that's a subject I could go on about too. Another time.