Energy: An Unrealistic Luxury

Very seldom do moments of inspiration and energy coincide with opportunities to get things done around the house.  In the morning as I go through my routine preparing to head off to work, I notice that the bathroom sink needs to be cleaned or the beans in the cupboard rearranged.  I make a mental note to do the work when I get home, but at the end of the day I am drained and want only to lie on the floor and listen to Elliott Smith until bedtime.  Another day passes and the sink is still dirty and the cupboard in chaos. 

If this goes on long enough, the little tasks accumulate.  Each moment in the apartment I am haunted by the mocking sneers of tasks undone.  Weren’t you going to take out the compost?  Shouldn’t you have dusted the sills?  Look at all the crumbs under the toaster! 

Some things I have learned.  One of them is this: Energy is an unrealistic luxury in a life of chronic pain.  Sometimes you just have to do stuff anyway.  Other times you need to let yourself off the hook.

I’ve found that some tasks around the house really only take a few minutes, and if I can just get them started despite the pain and lethargy I feel, they get done rather quickly.  I can wipe down the bathroom sink in a minute or so.  Once it’s clean, it no longer taunts me with accusations.  I feel a load lift from my shoulders.  Wiping down the kitchen counters and stovetop after washing the dishes keeps that voice silent.  I can vacuum while the clothes are in the washer, in such a small apartment that takes only a few minutes.

Other times, I’m just too discouraged, in too much pain, or too tired to do much more than brush my teeth before bed.  On those days, the dust and grime accumulate.  Sometimes I have the presence of mind to talk back to the heckling dust bunnies; sometimes it’s okay to leave work undone for another day.  Other days I let it get to me; I let it make me feel inferior to the women with spotless houses – like I am fundamentally flawed and weak – like there is no point in trying – like I’ll never be able to keep a nice house – like I ought to have a cleaning lady but can’t afford one – like I’m doomed to live in squalor forever.

Two days ago I scrubbed the toilet.  Today I took out the spray bottle and cleaned up the sink.  For now my head is above water.