Keeping house has never been my strong suit. I enjoy having a nice place, but it’s a lot of work to maintain it in that state. Every once in a while, though, the urge to clean something strikes, and assorted tools and supplies come out of storage.
Today it was the downstairs bathroom’s turn.
I don’t know how long I’ve been having a staring match with dust bunnies and grunge in that tiny room behind the kitchen. The upper part of the room — fixtures, windowsill, mirror — was fine, regularly scrubbed or wiped down. The nether regions, the baseboards and odd-shaped spaces behind the toilet or along the base of the vanity, not so fine. Not enough room to get a mop in there, or an upright vacuum, or a robotic vacuum. The long hose of the workshop vac might fit, but the motor unit would have to wait outside in the kitchen.
My usual rule for dealing for long-procrastinated items is that if I see something three times and it annoys me, I’m obligated to do something about it. Initially I just tried very hard not to make eye contact with the floor. Then I went through a phase of “Gotta clean that someday.” Today, something just snapped.
The expression “The perfect is the enemy of the good” springs to mind here. I realized that while there might not be time to do a complete job, attacking every crevice, detailing every square inch of baseboard, there was time to do something. To just start, and see how far I got with it.
I’m pleased to report that the dust bunnies have all been evicted from behind the toilet, and that the wall trim is starting to look like new again. By doing the hardest, most awkward and cramped area first, there’s more incentive to complete the project.
Especially since the baseboard doesn’t match anymore.