Another Saturday Night

I bought a new housecleaning spray a few weeks ago. It's the Method brand from Shoppers Drug Mart. I read in a magazine that they smell nice and are environmentally friendly. Then I read in Home Comforts, a book on how and why to clean house, the recommended frequency for cleaning bathrooms. Apparently, a wipe down of the sink and toilet should be done everyday, just like they do at the campgrounds. Then once a week, you clean everything else in the bathroom.

So my new housekeeping routine is that every morning, I spray and wipe the sink and toilet in both bathrooms. I confess, it has made a tremendous difference in how clean and comfortable we feel. The routine takes about 10 minutes with my new spray.

Under this new standard of comfort, I hadn't wiped down the last two days as I had been out early each morning. On the third day, I felt a little distressed at the soap film that started to show in the sink.

It's a curious thing, this discomfort. I know I've gone as long as a whole month without cleaning, yet I never felt distress. Nor cared. Maybe I didn't even notice a whole month had gone by.

So here we are on a Saturday night. I go from watching my two black baby mollys (I am just fascinated by their existence - life that seemed to spring out of nowhere. I want to make sure they don't get eaten even though they are too big for that now and that's why they are swimming around so freely), to watching Hank the betta (he swims happily in his own tank upstairs and spits out the new food I got him), to cleaning the bathrooms, one upstairs, one in the basement.

Hmm. I get excited about cleaning the house, I watch fish and clean the bathroom on a Saturday night. What's with that? Something is wrong with this picture. I need a life.