It’s weird. This is one of those posts that I am starting and not knowing what I am really going to say. Well that bit isn’t weird, alot of my posts start like that. The majority of them though, I know where I am going with it. With this I don’t. But I started this blog as a place to get things out of my head and there is a lot that I need to get out of my head at the moment. Truth be told my head is a mess.
Not in a scary, everybody start worrying about me, kind of way. It’s normal everyday stuff but there just seems to be so much of it and I am struggling to deal with it all I guess.
Does anybody else feel like that? An overwhelming feeling of there just being so much to do? Like everyday? And that even when it’s all done it is just like treading water. Or fighting a fire. Four times I tidied the kitchen yesterday. Four. How is that even possible? That as soon as I clean a work surface and turn around to do something else I come back and it’s covered in crumbs. And I swear to God that bin that is overflowing is the same bin I emptied yesterday. Where has all that stuff come from again and why cant the person who just wedged all that stuff in that is balanced on the top not empty the damn thing?
Every time you open a cupboard in this house it is like playing Jenga. The only vaguely tidied rooms are the lounge and the kitchen, everywhere else is a mess. Nothing is where it should be. The only way I can make a room look vaguely tidy is to clear everything off the floor or table and shove it in the nearest cupboard or drawer. It fixes the immediate problem but long term it is useless. We haven’t been able to find a tape measure for months. There are screw drivers in the cutlery drawer. I can never find a menu for our local Indian restaurant but I know where three are for restaurants in the town we lived in ten years ago. I can no longer work on my desk as it is a graveyard for boxes, review items, paperwork, stationery, anything in fact that I don’t know what to do with but if I put it in there and shut the door I don’t have to look at it any more.
I have to shut the curtains on that room though when the window cleaner comes or he will think we have been burgled and call the police.
Getting a serving bowl out of a cupboard means moving a whole stack that are balanced on a pie dish. One wrong move and the kitchen floor will resemble a scene from a Greek restaurant.
It is driving me mad that I just don’t have time to spend tidying anything properly. To have a proper sort out rather than scratching the surface of something and doing a half arsed job. Ironing one school skirt and a shirt rather than all the stuff in the basket.
Yes we have a cleaner once a week for three hours but it’s not the cleaning that’s the issue. It’s the rest of it. I have often joked that I need a wife and I have never felt that more acutely than now. You know that feeling when you just want somebody to do it all for you. So you don’t have to stare at a fridge and think “what the hell am I going to throw onto a plate?” and because your head is a mess you can’t think so you order a take away. Except you don’t have that thing you always liked but can’t remember what it is called (see point above re menus).
Where you are more organised with your clothes so that you don’t have to run down the garden at 7.30am on a Saturday in your bra and leggings to find a clean top to wear on the washing line because there aren’t any anywhere else?
I was away for three days last week, the prep ahead of time was a bit bonkers, not just making sure that I had all I needed but making sure there was food in the fridge, everybody knew what was going on. That they knew where the key was for granny should she need an emergency visit. That Mr B knew what was going on with school runs and exams. The list was endless.
I came home and hit the ground running with my head full of three days of cheese. A suitcase of dirty clothes. 1000 photos. A million blog posts I hadn’t written before I went and now another million to get down. Yet the first thing I wanted to do was throw the Dyson round the hall as my way of achieving something tangible in five minutes. Of clearing my head.
My head is constantly buzzing with what I need to be doing right now, what I should have done, what I need to do in the next four hours, what I must remember to do in the next week. It never stops. I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about things I need to do. I lie awake trying to fall asleep in bed remembering the urgent things I was supposed to do that day and didn’t. Put the Good Wife on though, my favourite programme, and I am asleep in seconds.
Mr B is out of the house for 14 hours a day five days a week, leaving at 6am, returning at 7.30pm if he is lucky, though it is usually nearer 8pm. He can’t physically do the hour of household stuff that I do every morning before doing an hour long school run and then a full day of work. To then do another hour long school run, dinner for teens, dinner for us, dog walking, blog stuff yadda yadda yadda.
I am hoping that with the end of GCSEs in sight this week I might feel a bit more together. There are only two more later this week, and in fact this morning’s is the last one at 9am. This means there are no more 6am calls until September. That feels weird in itself.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s all about my youngest baby growing up and no longer being my baby. GCSE’s are nearly over and the hours of revision and sitting down to do past papers are behind her. They are all now just fire-pit fodder. Ceremoniously being burned as they are no longer needed. It’s about her approaching sixth form. Thoughts of university. Heading off to the Foofighters at Wembley in a couple of weeks. Making train journeys and having days out without me. Growing up and having fun. Whilst I just grow old and vacuum the hall.
Am I getting old?
Am I just tired?
Is it that I just need to lie on a beach for a week?
Or is that I really do just need a wife.
Anyone interested in the position, apply within. I will pay you in waffles