Out of Shape

I am so out of “Cleaning Shape”, the “get down on your hands and knees and scrub the floor Cinderella kind of cleaning shape. Its not that the condo is filthy or anything, but my up coming departure requires more than a lick and a promise. I don’t want the geckos, roaches, ants, moths, mongoose and other critters to decide that the place has residential potential in my absence. It faired well while I was gone last summer. I returned to find only a few dried-up centipedes.

After spending an hour wiping the bamboo floor and cleaning the baseboards in the living room, I was ready to break out for the pool. The next morning, during my run (One good thing about returning to New York will be that I don’t have to get up at 5 AM to “beat the heat of the day.” Hell, I can get up at noon and go running.) I noticed my butt muscles were sore. What was up with that? The only thing I did differently was squat and clean the floor. As the day progressed, I got sorer and sorer.

The bedroom and office began to feel like monumental tasks, but I tackled them too, along with the Venetian blinds. I am not talking about dusting. I’m talking about cleaning. One window later, I had enough of that. The person who invents an easy way to clean these blinds will make a mint. Such a hassle, I have come close to just going out and buying new ones. Vertical, forget horizontal.

After being on my hands and knees, I have decided my wrists hurt. So I quit writing.

Too much domestic stuff for me.