We have the "cleanest home in America" according The Cleaning Authority. They must have a criteria that when it is time to tidy, one simply moves junk into another location, like a closet or a basket. This marketing ploy was sent by a DC cleaning company and upon opening the brochure, it teases, "Your home isn't the cleanest? It could be..." While making fun of me, they're also playing into a dream that I could actually be organized even though I'm not a label maker.
When I first got the flyer, it cracked me up. I thought, "Who wants that award?" But after perusing covers at the magazine stand, it is evident that neat-nicking is a big desire for people. Oprah's issue is all about de-cluttering. Real Simple gets ya organized, filed, and stashed. It really hit home when a friend said she did a lot of "straightening up" during the blizzard. All the while, I was hoarding recipes and trying them out for snow parties and video blogs (see entry titled MISO HAPPY for aphrodisiac cooking video).
There is truth to the phrase spring cleaning. The swelling of the buds signals change is in the air. Last weekend a frenzy of getting-it-together overtook me. I went through toys to give away to Goodwill. I'm in the process of converting our paper calendar to the computer. I even beautified my lingerie by getting see-through drawers so that I can admire my pretty panties. And for off-season stashing, the under-the-bed shoe organizer is sure to do the trick.
But the magazine tear sheets, school papers, work folders, and mail are entangling me in chaos. Gotta file because the tax deadline is looming. It stresses me out just typing this entry while I think about when I am going to pre-clean before the housekeeper comes tomorrow. Maritza, the sparkle fairy, is coming to spruce up the house with her magic vacuum before my parents arrive on Friday morning. Let's see how long the pine smell lasts but as Dan would say, "Cyndy, you like your piles." Maybe I should just hang an air freshener and have a dance party.