Toilet Brush Bruises
Most of you already have an inkling that I am to the left of batty by about a mile. I think I left my sanity by the wayside when I gave birth to my eldest 4 years ago.....so that means my mental health is probably laying somewhere between West Hollywood and Santa Monica. Please return if found.
So, why am I talking about my loose screws? Well, I happen to be pretty crazy about cleanliness. I obsess and get depressed when my house is messy or dirty. Just the way I am....the perfect product of a completely OCD mother and grandmother. I do let things get messy (unlike aforementioned matriarchs who had me living as if in a museum 24/7....don't make me tell you stories....Mommy Dearest comes to mind....) but it puts me in a frenetically bad mood. So today I decided I needed to clean house because things were getting nasty and my kids are at the tail end of a bout with Roseola so I wanted to disinfect everything. Cleaning has always kind of helped me cope with stress....much like a stress ball works for some people. No biggie, right? That's what I thought.
I just got done with the toilet bowls upstairs and now have a massive bruise on two fingers of my right hand....inner part of the fingers....from gripping the toilet brush with a total death grip. What the heck is wrong with me? A little stressed perhaps? And why am I sharing this tidbit of info with the blogosphere? God knows.
Once upon a time I wrote a post on here about how this blog was going to take the place of therapy for me....so there it is. Rather then tell my therapist that I am so stressed out that I actually mutilated myself while cleaning toilet bowls, I will put it out there for the world to see. So...who's gonna send me my first class ticket for the crazy train?! LOL! Or, who wants to meet me in the dining car for Cosmos on said train?
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Wow. Hardcore. Put down
Wow. Hardcore. Put down the toilet brush. There's this wonderful blue foaming powder stuff that destroys all the yucky in a toilet with hardly any work. Dump some in at night, and the next morning, you will barely need to tickle at the bowl with the brush. It's called SaniFlush, and it's some magic stuff. And don't be shy about using tons of it. Way better than self-mutilation.
potty powder
i am SO getting this stuff! i knew you would save the day IG!
Airing my dirty laundry at: Peacocks on Leashes
Cosmos? Well hmmmm
http://bloggerparty.com/blog/sassys
It has been my experience that one cosmo a day keeps my toilets clean yessiree bub:)
LOL Sassy!
at this rate i think a Cosmo and a valium might be my dinner of champions!
Airing my dirty laundry at: Peacocks on Leashes
I'll have a beer, please.
I just don't have the head (or stomach) for the hard stuff, anymore.
As for those toilet brush bruises, MM...Damn, girl!!! That is some serious stress. Good thing you weren't washing windows - you would have put your hand right through the glass. I think, in the future, it might be a good idea to make sure you do the toilets first and then clean the mirrors and all the other glass stuff. Just a thought.
I can totally relate to living in a museum as a kid. My mother was completely fucking anal about the house. She wouldn't even let us take a single grape off a bunch. We had to take an entire stem because leaving an empty spot was soooo ugly - and we had to cut the stem, not break it off, because it left ragged ends. Don't even get me started on touching things. I spent most of my childhood sitting on the floor. It was just easier than listening to her have fits about keeping my oily palms off the fabric, not scrunching up the upholstery (like my 80 lb. little body could have done that anyway), not rubbing the dirt off my clothes onto the upholstery - I could go on and on.
After an upbringing like that, you can be sure that the top of my refrigerator is always spotless and my toidy is always clean and sparkling. I have barked my shins climbing up to clean off the tops of the curtain rods, fallen off ladders cleaning ceiling fans and overhead lights, scalded myself cleaning the sinks and tubs and run over my own foot with the vacum cleaner too many times to count (I'm really clumsy....well....obviously) but I have never raised bruises on my fingers with the toilet brush. My mother would be so proud of you!
PW...are we sisters?
wow, your description of your childhood sounded uncannily like mine! i once came home from school with all the stuff from my closet and drawers spilled out in the middle of my room. apparently, even though the exterior of my bedroom was spick & span, i was a little messy inside the closet and drawers so she rampaged and tossed everything out so that i would properly fold everything. yeah...real healthy stuff there.
oh and i am no stranger to the tub scrub scalding! LOL! ouch!
Airing my dirty laundry at: Peacocks on Leashes
Either that, MM, or our mothers are sisters.
I can not believe it, I went through the same thing with the closets and the drawers! I actually had to fold all my laundry in front of her so that she could make sure it was done "right" before I put it away.
And people wonder why I'm such a nut-job. LOL!
Well..Modelmom...here's my kind of solution
Have the cosmos before cleaning the toliet, you know to just relaxe you a little so as not to bruise you hands...lol.
I actually never had that problem with my mom...she was pretty much a slob. My dad was the more anal one, but he was a military man also. He would have fits about her non cleaning habits. He rubbed off on me just a little. I liked organization and clean.
So I guess you could say I had the best of both worlds. I was very "Danny Tannerish" with my kids when they were little, that was before I went to work outside the home. I am not near as bad now, I actually could be a little better at the housekeeping, but I just dont feel like it anymore. I do the necessary stuff. This had me laughing by the way, I could just see you and your determination with the toliet brush in your hand, going at that poor porcelain thing....haha...it was funny.
Oh dear, MM
I know stress, but I have never wounded myself with a toilet brush. I have, however, demolished some serious chocolate. Pick your poison, I guess
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Brenna