My husband and I are the odd couple… One of us is neat and responsible, and the other (IE: ME), laid-back and slovenly. I really hate to define my level of cleanliness as irresponsible because, after all, I’m not that bad (in the classic words of someone making excuses for themself.) All too often, I find myself feeling like a walking contradiction. I am fearless, bold, and determined when I am tackling a project that excites and challenges me… but worthless when it comes to the everyday chores of being a CLEAN. I am described by my brother-in-law as a modern day hippie, yet as a teen I battled with an excruciating insecurity of being seen without makeup… so much so, that I used to spend two hours of my day getting ready and I refused to let even my closest friends see me without my face on. Oh, how things have changed! Now I rarely wear make-up at all if I’m not working… and I even go bare when I know the office harpies are not going to be in. Two kids, a weekly mountain of laundry, and a new found security in my natural attributes, or rather, a new found care-free attitude that comes with being 30, has brought me to my current contradiction. I keep a tidy enough house that even Peter can be proud… ok, that was a lie. But he’s worse than most peoples mothers, white gloves bad… but the exchange? I have been camping in my own life.
Deep breath… On the way home from dropping the kids off at school I decided to call a guy friend, that shall remain nameless, to see if I could stop by for coffee.
“Sure! When are you coming over?”
I replied that I was just right down the street, and my friend scoffed that he hadn’t even showered.
To which I replied, “Well, I haven’t showered in three days.”
The stunned silence was followed by a you’re kidding me laugh. So on the defense I said, “Well, you’re a guy, so stop being a girl and start making coffee.”
When I arrived, I could see how uncomfortable he was being ‘dirty’. And I started wondering why I didn’t have that same feeling of shame. Which lead to an interesting line of conversation. Apparently, there are other things that I need to add to my growing list of need to know cleanliness rules. Like NOT using the same poofy scrubber as another person in your household. And also that men should have ‘man cloths’ and ‘man smelling soap’. I felt a tinge of remorse for poor Peter, when, at that moment I thought about the berry scented community bottle of bodywash sitting in our shower… and the lone pink poofy.
I think I may have arrived at this place because of my tenacity to spend every moment doing something exciting and/or challenging. While I was painting my last mural I barely slept, hardly wore make-up, and NEVER folded the last dreaded load of laundry decaying in the dryer. And with anticipation of spring and all of this beautiful weather, who wants to waste an hour of time if they don’t have to?! Pardon me, but I’m opting NOT to shower and instead go play outside with the kids… which makes my non-showering even grosser actually. Maybe it’s just a weird Gary Busey phase or something.
After coffee I had decided to hurry home and shower finally… but I didn’t. Because I’m dirty. 4 days. That’s a record for not being in a tent somewhere.