DIY cleaning

As you all know cleaning is close to my heart.

My new flatmate produced a toothbrush on her latest bathroom mission and my legs turned to jelly. I wanted to limply crawl towards her and I kiss her toes. Disgusting, I know! As she was standing by the toilet cistern of which was to receive her magic touch.

She then produced her polishing rag. That was when I knew I was finished. I was already on my hands and knees. It was a true Ghandi moment. I would’ve immortalised her then and there into the gold statue she rightly deserves!

People that clean and know how to do it well are my kind of people.

It’s not some OCD sympathy club. Far from it.

You see cleaning is not a selfish thing. It is appreciating the fact that anyone could come over at any time… and don’t they deserve clean sideboards and sparkling windows to match their company?

Lately, a few of my friends have evilly tried to slide me to the dark side. They have lovingly invested repeated, flourishing accolades of their paid-for cleaner: she irons my sheets so well and doesn’t steal a thing.

But I am not convinced. I know you are proud, you cunning things. You have won back time on a weekend that at moments of weakness I envy you so.

Just don’t come between me and my Hoover, or my flatmate’s toothbrush. Step back you lounge lizards and sip your lazy gin and tonics while I keep on the scrub with my Mr Muscle.

It is domestic therapy I am squirting on about.

While I spray, wipe and polish, so too am I eradicating the dust from my mental closet.

There is something so strangely therapeutic in mind-numbing tasks. Simultaneously I cleanse the four walls I live in – both inside and out. And the outcome is as strangely fulfilling as a messy night out.