Keeping it Real -Keeping it Together

I hate folding and putting away laundry, BUT I love warshing it.  My spoonful of sugar (as it concerns folding) is Netflix instant streaming.  I’ll set my laptop on a chair next to the couch and stream a movie as I fold.

Yesterday, I streamed “The Odd Couple.”  Forgive me for my ignorance, but I had NO IDEA it was a series on TV.  The movie gave me a great laugh, and it also gave me about a million things to think about.

I just love Jack Lemmon. I do, I do, I do. I first fell in love with him when he dressed up as a woman and named himself Daphne.
“I can never have children.”

Seeing him as an obsessive clean freak was hilarious.
We had some friends over for dinner last night, and I spent the day cleaning up. Cleaning is defeating for me, you know. It’s a constant fight for me to maintain my self worth while cleaning. While I’m sweeping, my eyes inevitably wander to the top of the shelves… dusty. Then they wander to the sink… unscrubbed. Before I know it, clutter is flying off my counter tops and out of my closets and DANCING OVER MY HEAD to the beat of Satan’s drum as they AUDIBLY CHANT:
You’re a failure.
You’re a failure.
You’re a failure.

And then my husband comes through the door and catches me mid-fall.
“I’m SORRY you have to LIVE WITH ME!” I burst into tears.

Cleaning and organizing are not my talents. They are my husband’s, but he has to work and stuff. Last night, I curled up in bed and went to sleep to the sound of water running. My husband was doing the dishes. He had done them the night before as well. I do the daytime dishes, and when he can he does the nighttime dishes. That way, I wake up to a fighting chance instead of self-destruction and pitiful doom.

As I watched Jack Lemmon crazily clean his roommate’s apartment, I thought to myself how my husband deserved someone who could clean like that. I even went so far as to turn the movie off and leave the laundry for a few minutes so I might clean the microwave!

But I also realized something else: before the holidays (2010) my house was in general good order. I was sort of on top of it all (not counting my bedroom. We are NOT counting my bedroom), but I wasn’t doing other things. For example, I would say my nighttime prayers one night and then realize that it had been several days since I had done so. My scripture reading was splotchy. Is that a word? Splotchy?
Anyway, now I’ve gotten back into my good habits, but my house is falling apart. Where is the medium? The balance? My fairy godmother?

A few years ago, I took an online quiz to find out which “Friends” character I was. The results?

Chanandler Bong.

That’s right. I didn’t even make the cut as one of the FEMALE characters. I was a little down over that until I watched a few episodes with my husband one night and started ROLLING with laughter. Because although my husband did not take the quiz, we both pegged him.

The One Who Likes Things Just So.
The One Who Likes To Be in Control.
The One Who Hates It When Someone Gets a Dot of Ink of the Sofa.

It’s all okay. It’s all okay.
I need someone like that. Just like he needs someone like me.

I am the Walter Matthau to my own Jack Lemmon.
I am the Chandler Bing to my very own Monica Gellar.

Together we sometimes drive each other crazy, but -incidentally -we work things out very well. I need him around to keep reality in the picture. He needs me around to drive reality out now and then.

Balance, see.  Balance.

Before I go, I HAVE to show you what I got today:

It came in the mail and it was SO beautiful that didn’t want to open it. But I did.

I ran home, wrote TWO letters and drove right back to the post office. When I went up to the counter, I rang the bell for service.
The postmaster came to the window and wondered why I was back so quickly.
“The package I just picked up had stationery in it, so I went home and wrote TWO letters! I just need to know how many stamps they need.”
He looked at me in disbelief.
“Girls…” he muttered under his breath.

Girls, indeed. We are frivolous. I think that’s why we blog.