I've been trying to get a good deal of housekeeping done today. It's kind of fallen behind, partly because of all the other things we've been doing lately, and so it doesn't take reaching very far to find something that needs to be put away or cleaned or whatever. And I realize how random I am in the doing of it. It makes me laugh! I think of the linear, orderly types who do things so differently from my way, and I don't know how in the world I could fit into their mold. Somehow, though, I think it's far more efficient to do it this way, with tasks all within reach of each other, and able to be combined as I go.
You know what those orderly, non-random people are like. They know what they're having for dinner each day of the week because that's what they have every week. So they only have to buy ingredients for seven types of meals, and they only need one little cupboard in their kitchen to hold it. Monday is wash day, Tuesday is dusting day, Wednesday is window-washing day, Thursday is vacuuming day, etc. They have those little embroidered dish cloths that remind them, and they use one per day with the right task on it. I don't know how they narrow their tasks down to six or seven. (When did you ever see a kitchen towel embroidered with "Clean the Garage Day"?) I knew a gal like that who came to my house and criticized the fact that I made a pork chop dish with tomatoes and onion and all that added--she felt I went to way too much trouble. I went to her house. She was serving fish sticks, because that's what she always served that day; I think the tartar sauce was her vegetable. Her family was all far thinner than ours. I didn't envy her, except the enjoyment of such simplicity freeing her up to do so much--except that she wouldn't do all the things she was free to do, because it wouldn't be scheduled into her day.
My day goes quite differently. The morning is probably my most predictable part, in that I try to make sure to include a quiet time there right after making coffee. I might pour some cereal, too. By then it's a 50/50 chance that I've gotten a shower and dressed, but I'll do that if it's not done. But after that--the rest of the day is up for grabs! It depends a great deal on what others are doing--when the kids get up, whether I have to drive someone somewhere; if we're having Tim's friends over, or a family over for dinner, or we need groceries. Still, if all that's open, I might go about doing dishes and laundry and taking out some garbage--this is where it might get interesting. Take the bins away from the curb and see a weed, and in pulling it, notice a frisbee hidden in the ground cover. Go to throw the weed out and put the frisbee away and notice the vegetable garden that I didn't plant is filling with weeds--pull some more weeds, need aspirin, go in to get some, the phone rings. I think the phone rings on scheduled times only, for people who are orderly. Or else they only answer it between 7 and 8 p.m. or something. And when I'm on the phone, I spill something, and notice the floor needs sweeping. On the way to the broom I pick up 5 things to put away. Putting them away brings 10 more to my notice. I think I pick up about a billion things by the time the kids are up. If I need to call a business, I think about it at 5:04 p.m. If I need to call a person, I think of it at 9:09 p.m. when they might be off to bed. I guess it saves me phone time.
I wonder how an orderly person would do my life? They'd probably have a heart attack the first day and get it over with. If I had theirs, I'd reform it. Pretty soon, with all that spare time, I'd start cooking some new recipes, but have to go to the store for some interesting ingredients. Then I'd decide to sew something, and have to go to the fabric store, too--both in the same trip, to save gas. So that would fill my time. Of course, then I couldn't wait till Thursday (vacuuming day) to vacuum, because sewing is messy. That would throw my whole week off, because on Thursday, what would I do, since I vacuumed on Monday? I'd have to make Thursday washing day, like Monday had been--but there's only a few days accumulation. I guess I'll mix it--half laundry, half vacuuming. There goes the order. And that would be the beginning of the end. Life would have its familiar and friendly chaos, and I'd be far more comfortable.