I love my job. I’m introduced to all sorts of interesting things and then I get to explain to other people what makes them interesting. It’s kind of like This American Life except with more spellcheck. And no Ira Glass. On second thought…
Last week I had a big project for this job I love – a challenging project that I was really excited about.
You know what that means, right?
That means my house is super clean.
I finally put away the bins of winter clothes that had laid down roots on my bedroom floor. I lugged every single plastic Easter egg in our house to the attic. I mopped the floors and then I even WASHED the little floor moppy pad so it will be ready for next
After all that, I sat down to work for a few hours.
But this project was big, remember, and I was excited about it – so the next day I tackled all the miscellaneous papers that have been lying around since God made trees. Then I organized my little girls’ closet. I found some cute 12-month Christmas dresses if anyone’s interested. My twins turned five last month, so I imagine the dresses are a bit small.
With the paper and laundry monsters dispatched, I headed back to my office.
The next morning I was only 40% finished with the project. The pressure was building. So I did what any reasonable writer would do – I cleaned my ovens.
My thirteen-year-old was flabbergasted. “I had no idea they were gray inside! I thought they were supposed to be that brown/gold color!”
Cleaning the ovens isn’t as satisfying as it used to be, what with the advent of the “precise clean” button, so I decided to scrub the sinks. All eight of them. Then I soaked them all in hot bleachy water for a few hours each, because, you know, it had been a while.
Write, write, write, words, words words. 80% done.
You know when you think you’ve cleaned everything in your house and there’s nothing else to tackle? (Me neither.) That’s when a slipcovered sofa really comes in handy. There’s the removal and the stain treatment, the washer, the dryer, the tugging and pulling of putting it all back together. It is a FABULOUS way to kill an hour or two.
I finally finished a draft of that project. Good news for my client, bad news for my house. For the record, I turned it in four days early. I may procrastinate by cleaning house, but I’m not that bad. Or perhaps my house just isn’t that big.
I still have plenty of projects to work on, but nothing quite so anxiety-inducing. I figure in a matter of hours my house will revert to its former non-glory.
Not to worry, there is hope on the horizon. It’s called a second draft.
My lawn may get mowed yet.