The worst part of having people over: having to clean the house. The best part of having people over: having a clean house.
It’s sad being lonely and not letting people come over because the house isn’t clean. Such delightful things as having people over, enjoying the company of good friends, playing games, and catching up is associated with such unpleasant things as de-furring the couch, vacuuming all the dust and fur you just spread everywhere, spraying down counters, and getting on your hands and knees and scrubbing (because, yes, I still do that).
And amusingly, you should see me in the last few minutes of a party. Then, and only then, I am Susie Homemaker: clearing the bottles, putting plates and cups in the dishwasher, wrapping and putting away food, etc, desperately trying to preserve the clean-ness as long as long as possible, i.e., a few more hours.
Side question: Have you ever had this happen? Your visitors cancel on you last minute, and you feel like you have to find someone to come over NOW — or at least within the next day or so – because, Wow! The house is clean, and someone has to be around to see it, so it’s not like you spent a whole day of your life cleaning the house for nothing? (As in: “Wow! The house is clean; people should come over.”)
Or maybe I’m just crazy.
Anyway, I sit here typing this and enjoy my surroundings. It’s nice that the house is clean. Dishes are creeping up again. But otherwise things are clear. Of course, the dirt will begin to accumulate. The dirt and the dust and the gunk. And the FUR — but for now, the house is still pleasant. We’ve managed to keep down the clutter. The kitchen and wood floors are still shiny. The coffee table, kitchen table, and kitchen counter are relatively clear of papers/junk mail/old batteries/stray screws/misplaced pens/half-full water glasses (all mine, of course) /food scraps for compost/Christmas chocolates and cookies (most were sent away with our last guest, and the rest were eaten by the person writing this blog)/library books (stacked neatly on the end table)/school papers (shoved far out of my sight), etc. So, right now, comparatively, this house is practically a Zen garden.
Sigh. Why, oh why can’t it stay that way?