Pet Peeves: The Cleaning Peeve

Good Morning (or night or afternoon, wherever you are, whenever you read this)! This post / email is for those who want something fun to read. Hope you stick until the end!

The cleaning peeve. Yes, I happen to have a peeve that goes along with one of my most infrequent activities; cleaning.

I don’t clean much, but when I do, it annoys me. A lot. If someone else cleans, it annoys me too. Let me explain. If I clean, it has to be spotless. And then I get annoyed at how much time it took for me to—well—not be able to reach that level of perfectionism I want to. Now, if someone else cleans, and I find some dirty spot, I get annoyed. It triggers me that they took the time to clean, only for it not to be clean. Does that even make any sense? No. But it’s a peeve, and I have no clue how not to get annoyed.

As I’m writing this, I’m in a room that’s messy, and perhaps have not been cleaned for a couple of days. I can’t seem to get started, but that’s just an excuse and I just don’t like cleaning. It takes up so much time, and I feel much better and less annoyed when I leave things as is. I’m sorry if I offended anyone who’s a neat freak with those few sentences.

My desk is a mess, the kitchen is a mess, my room is a mess, everything else is a mess. You get the gist of it, right? I can just hear my grandmother tell me how much of a mess…everything is. I should start cleaning, but it’s really hard to. Please tell me I’m not the only one that feels this way.

My problem is that I don’t start. But that might be because I know for sure that if I start, I’ll be so triggered, I won’t be able to finish, and perhaps I might miss a meal or two. ADHD sucks, and I have no clue what to do with half the junk everywhere. I would probably have to stockpile a dozen podcast episodes and listen to that while I clean…everything, just to keep me feeling like I’m actually doing something and not just, well, wasting my time for it all to become a mess again.

On a side note (just for fun), yesterday, I noticed that my hand has developed a hard…whatever, where I rest my hand on the table while typing stuff out. Like a guitarist with those…what’s it called? on their fingers. I suppose you can tell that someone types by looking at those. I think that’s the strongest part on my hands, which is sort of sad, considering that means I type a lot and not do…other things with my hands. Damn. I have a life for sure.

Anyways, thanks for sticking this long, and I hope you have a great week! 😁 

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