Clean sweep

I’ve been waiting for a perfect spring weekend for awhile now and finally got one just a couple days ago. The sunshine and spring temps meant it was the perfect opportunity for me to open the windows and let the cool breeze cover the scent of bleach as I deep cleaned my home.

That’s right folks. Equipped with allergy medicine and blaring iPod, spring cleaning is one of my simple pleasures. Of course cleaning is still a chore. I’d rather be doing any number of things, but as chores go, cleaning is tops for me.

This is most definitely an inherited trait. My sweet grandma was militant about cleaning. And growing up, Saturday mornings were spent helping my mom wash and vacuum the floors. At the time, I hated it. I vividly remember cleaning the kitchen floor on my hands and knees, complaining that I was being treated like Cinderella. Not to mention the fact that I was unable to give my full attention to the latest episode of Saved By the Bell.

I didn’t fully appreciate this cleaning obsession until I was an adult. Now at home, everything has its place. (My desk at work is another story.) And while things aren’t always in their place, you can be sure I’m going to do my best to keep things in order.

I think part of my fondness for cleanliness comes from wanting to be in control. When everything else in my life seems out of my control, I get to have my say about the amount of dust on the floor. (Let’s just say, Swiffer has a loyal customer in me.)

For that reason, cleaning is sort of like therapy for me. Nothing kicks stress like scrubbing the heck out of the kitchen floor.

Has anyone else had the spring cleaning bug lately? Or, what sends your OCD into overdrive?

And for those of you wanting to pay a visit soon, please do! Just remember to remove your shoes, avoid fingerprints and don’t splash water on the counter tops. I jest...mostly.

Don't bug me

I adore springtime. I've been bursting with productivity lately because the warm sunshine and longer days are so motivating. But there are two things about spring that I hate: allergies and the return of bugs. Thank goodness for Claritin D. But, I’m still unsatisfied with the bugs.

Every day this week I have killed a spider or some other unclassifiable insect or flying thingy in my home. The other night, I had a dream (or was it…?) that something was buzzing in my ear and I woke myself up when my hand started flailing around my head.

I know these are all tiny, relatively harmless bugs. I know spiders are "good" because they eat other bugs. And yes, I can put on a brave face when others are around and pretend like that spider who can outrun a cheetah is no big deal. I was even on a first name basis with the pest control guy at my former office where we had a bit of a cockroach problem. But honestly, killing bugs in my house takes about as much courage for me as running into a burning building. And have you ever noticed that when you finally do kill a bug, you only think it's dead? Nine times out of ten, that sucker (no matter how crushed it is) somehow revives itself as soon as it's picked up with a tissue.

Disney makes movies in which the bugs talk, dance and save the world. They want me to think bugs are fun and friendly. No. They are not. They are icky. They belong outside and not in my house.

I don't need you to tell me all the gross facts like how the average person eats eight spiders in their lifetime or whatever. I've heard it. But if anyone has any brilliant advice to keep the bugs away—or to overcome my fear in some way that does not involve a Fear Factor-like stunt of letting hundreds of insects crawl on me—let me know. I'm over having all these extra roommates.