Mrs. Clean

So I noticed that when I decide it's time to clean the apartment, I always start in the kitchen. It's not because I like the kitchen, believe me. I think it's because I hate cleaning the kitchen so darn much that I just want to get it out of the way as soon as possible. Also, the kitchen only has a few tasks that are really required to make it look passably clean. Doing the dishes, for one. Wiping off the counters. Etc, etc. Simple things.

Well, sometimes.

The other day, I was doing the dishwasher and somehow gouged my hand open.

I know what you're thinking, but, no. Surprisingly enough, there were no knives involved. I never did figure out what I cut myself on... One minute, I was taking the dishes out of the dishwasher, and the next... OW! HOLY CRAP, WHERE IS ALL THAT BLOOD COMING FROM!?

Don't be too worried. It's just a cut on my finger. I'm over-dramatizing it because...well...that's just what I do.

But you know what I realized while I was getting all nervous and swooning at the sight of my finger dripping blood everywhere? Seeing other people's blood doesn't bother me too much anymore (thank you, lifeguard first aid classes!). It's the sight of my own blood that makes me feel sick.

I can't give blood, either. Every time I see my blood outside my body, I'm like, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE??? GET BACK INSIDE!!!"

Bleargh. Even talking about it is giving me the jibblies.

What are the jibblies, you ask?

I have no friggin' idea.


What were we talking about? Oh yes. Cleaning.

I'm not really a compulsive cleaner. Despite my mild OCD in other areas of my life, my apartment-cleaning process usually goes a little something like this: MESSY, tidy a little bit (just enough so that the sight of the place doesn't send me into nervous paroxysms), messy, messy, messy, OH GOD SOMEONE IS COMING TO VISIT...SUPERCLEAN...messy.

Yesterday, my husband looked around the apartment and went, "Man, we really need to clean this place."

What he should have said was, "Can I have some of the guys over?"

I would have cared more about cleaning if he had done it that way. Right now, all I care about is blogging about cleaning.

How's that for dealing with my tendency towards procrastination?


EDIT: While I was cleaning, I had another thought: does anyone else have specific "cleaning" music? For my mom, it was her "Funky Mix." (Now whenever I hear "Play That Funky Music, White Boy" or "Brick House," I wonder if it's time to start dusting something.) For me, it's my trashy dance mix. Basically the only time I listen to it is when I'm cleaning. T-Pain, Lady Gaga, N*Sync... They're my cleaning fuel.

Does anybody else do that? If so, what's your "cleaning music"?