A Weekly Journal Chronicling My Life
As It Intersects With The Garbage Dump Community Near La Ceiba, Honduras

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

I Am Insane.

I've become fanatical about keeping my floors clean...I should back up. I have OCD tendencies, depending on the season of life I'm in they can become weaker or stronger and take different maniacal forms. There was a time in my life where I couldn't sleep at night unless I was certain that all of my shirts and jackets were buttoned and zipped and hanging in the closet facing the same way. As a child I used to frantically pile all of my inanimate objects together at night; dirty clothes, shoes, towels, stuffed animals, so that they wouldn't be lonely, cold or stolen while I slept. As a preteen when we took vacations, while enroute to the shore I would organize the smaller Keiser and Girio children into work teams to clean and organize the inside of the car so that I wouldn't go insane from sitting amongst a chaotic mess of toys, food and books. Now of course my OCD has concentrated on the floors of my home and porch - nevermind that the walls have handprints all over them or that the fans are caked in dust, no, I'm batty about keeping my floors clean. We bathe in our clothes here (you'll understand why shortly), once the wet clothes are hung up to dry I snatch them down and run them over the surface of the tile to get rid of prints, dust and sundry other annoyances...
This obsession of mine may be a result of or compounded by (I'm not sure which) the fact that I have a small army of dusty children traipsing through my home each day. I love them all, I truly do, I just wish they could find a way to leave their feet at home...
And then there's this bundle of dust and dirt. I'm trying to teach her how to wipe her own paws before entering the home but it's not going so well. I'm thinking of installing footbaths at the entrances to the house...
I actually have more success with the tile outside the home than I do with the tile that's inside. It's mostly for the fact though that we all bathe out of this sink (do you understand why we don't bathe in the nude now?). We scoop out pans of water and drench ourselves, lather up and then rinse off. All of that water gets dumped onto the tile and as soon as someone gets done bathing I race outside like an insane person with a broom in-hand and use that water to wipe down all of the tiling around the house. It's a lot of work but for a good 15 minutes my porches sparkle...
In some places instead of tile we built rock walkways, they're nice and all but they really trap the dirt and no amount of brooming with bath water will clean them properly. I got to pondering this the other day..."How can I clean the dirt out from around the spaces in between the rocks?" (that's a lot of prepositions). I thought to myself "Maybe if I throw some rice down there on them rocks..."
"Some chickens will show up, eat the rice and pick the dirt up in the process."
It didn't work. I then tried to lay down for a nap and found it impossible to sleep because the three hens and two roosters were all fighting over the meager portion of rice I had tossed to them. (I wanted to be sure that they didn't fill up on the rice and forget to clean the dirt out for me).
and then i got distracted by baby bananas

1 comment:

Konrad said...

And then something will happen, like an amazingly good looking young adult will not wash his dishes, and instead savor the look on your face as they pile up in your sink. And as the mountain of grubby plates and pans mount, you'll just have to push all that ocd tension down. I think I may have been good for you.