I’m rage cleaning.
Started with the bathroom. As I got deeper and deeper into disinfecting the damn room, I realized we were out of x and y and z cleaning supplies.
There are other supplies here, in massive jars, that I can use, but it’s a whole production to go downstairs, and dilute, and get a different cloth, and find a bucket… All the little inconveniences that make this whole thing a first world problem is just making me more rage-y so I’m sitting here dumping all over the internet.
The bathroom was in horrid state. I mean, I clean it, the sink, the mirror, the toilet, I even cleaned the tub prior to having a bath the other day. But I do spot-cleaning, when I’m in there anyway and irritated by spots or something. I haven’t done that room from top to bottom in one time recently. And with all of us here 24/7 it’s gotten to the point where I could barely stand to go in there to brush my teeth. Know what I mean?
I tore apart everything there was to tear apart, threw it in the hallway (or the garbage) and poured or spritzed bleach into every nook and cranny. While I was on my hands and knees scrubbing underneath the sink cabinet thingy a kid came in and needed help with the printer which was out of paper.
Have I not taught the child how to fill paper into the printer yet?
At least she asked and didn’t just try to figure it out on her own. I mean, I prefer that they do that, the kids, but maybe not with the only functioning printer that is being used daily for work and school right now…I didn’t want to risk have it break down, or jam up or something.
Anyway, I washed my hands, looked for a towel to dry my hands on, couldn’t find one, used an apocalyptic paper towel, went to show her how to reload the paper without causing a paper jam, and then went back to scrubbing my floor under the sink. Eventually I wanted to mop the rest of the floor and went to get the Swiffer.
The Swiffer is a magic mop that has this juice you can spray from the handle. It’s very convenient. So I went to get it, started swiffering the stupid bathroom floor and realized, there is no juice coming out. Whoever used it last didn’t a) remove the empty bottle and recycle it and b) inform me that we are out.
Guess I have to finish the rest of the floor by hand.
While stewing about that I texted the husband who was on a zoom call downstairs to order me Swiffer juice (he’s the Amazon Prime shopper in this house).
“2 bottles, one all purpose and one for wood floor”
He texted back ok.
Then he wanted to know if we needed the removable pads.
I texted back no. We still have an almost full box.
What happened next just exasperated me more. I start receiving all these texts from him about mop cloths, and how many bottles and yada yada OMG.
It’s really not rocket science, to me, to fill in a simple order. Two bottles of juice is all I wanted. Why the slew of texts?
Because he kept texting me more random, useless stuff I took the empty bottle out of the recycling thing, and stomped downstairs to demonstrate what I needed.
“THIS is the bottle I need,” I said.
“AND ANOTHER ONE FOR WOOD FLOOR,” I added a little louder. 🙄
That’s when I noticed he was still on the call. Oops?
Whatever. I guess his colleagues got some entertainment from the sequestered, apocalyptic wife.
BIG FAT WHOOP.
How was I supposed to know that while he’s texting me he is still on a call? I didn’t realize he could multi-task shopping and texting useless questions while participating in a zoom call.
But that’s not even the worst part. The worst part was when I got back upstairs, my teenager jumped all over me. He is so embarrassed about me interrupting his dad’s call he started lashing out at me.
“This doesn’t even concern you,” I told him but it was futile. As far as my teen is concerned, his mom is nuts.
I have never denied this. 😛
So now we’re involved in this whole other thing, while the tween girl sat on the sofa giggling and chuckling, which just annoyed the teen more.
I’m telling you, her laughter made me collapse into a fit of half crying/half laughing/half hysterical, like I really am ready to be admitted into the loony bin, so the teenager gave up and left.
Before he did though, he instructed me not to come into his room because he was having a live call with his math class now.
Anyway, a whole slew of other misunderstandings happened between then and now but I’ll spare you.
Did I mention it’s only lunch time? 🙃
Well there you go. Another slice of life out of the nuthouse in Toronto.
Hope things are a little less chaotic in your life.