1. It's dangerous to go alone — take this
If I'm going into the kitchen, I take cups, plates, dishes and any other odds and ends that belong in there. If the kitchen is on my way to, say, the bathroom, I deposit the dishes into the sink and/or dishwasher. I pick up the new tube of toothpaste and stack of towels that were folded and waiting to be put away. On my way back to the living room, I collect the books that made their way to the bathroom over my last couple of visits.
2. There is no spoon
Who else here hates to unload the dishwasher? Do you sneak the item that you need without taking anything else? Stop lying. You know you do it. Everybody does, and that's ok. I take a few dishes out along with the one I need and put them away. If it's just a spoon, then I take a whole handful of silverware.
3. Zombie washcloths
I scrub down the kitchen with my washcloths and then toss them in the laundry. They sit there, waiting, watching, staring, molding and stinking. Then I realize that the laundry should get done. If I used only one or two washcloths at a time, they would gradually accumulate in the dirty clothes pile, which can wait just one more day. By that point, the damage is done. There's an odour that haunts my dreams. The stank of the dead washcloth come back to life. My solution: do the laundry more often, that way I can avoid the reek of zombie rags and hey, clean laundry!
4. Obstacle courses
My blinders are remarkable for blocking something from sight until I trip over it. So to make sure that I remember to do it, I place it deliberately in the way. Folded clothes are stacked on the stairs. In order to pass, I have to take an armful. Think of it as a game, like Calvinball or Ironman Croquet. For added hilarity and bonus points, play it with your partner/roommate… without telling them.
- Please note that the administration is not responsible for any injuries or trauma, physical or mental.
5. One day at a time
I suffer from anxiety and bipolar disorder, which means that when faced with the daunting prospect of cleaning an extremely messy 2-story/3 bedroom house (because its sole occupant has recovering from a two-week bout of depression) my ability to take on the task becomes non-existent. After 29 years of this, I only recently came to realize that I don't have to clean the whole freaking house at once! Each room can get tackled on a different day of the week, with the bigger and messier rooms assigned to when I have more time in my schedule.
Sure, the living room's still buried in camping gear from last weekend and the current sewing project, but the kitchen is fabulous. That's a clean motherfucking kitchen if you ever saw one.