I just finished my last paper for school and if the teachers like it, I'll get my BA in Spanish and Literature. I finished Sunday night and Monday morning I woke up to clean, only because I had a friend visiting me on Tuesday and she was clear when she told me “I want to see your house, not your mess”. Love her. Therefore, I made a plan. I would start with something not as hard, like the living room, then something I hate, like dishes, and so on.
I put Pandora on. I have to admit, cleaning with music is very fun. I remember there was only one year between high school and college, where I was attending a public school that I didn't work and I was able to stay home and help my mom with the cleaning. I remember her coming from work and finding a clean kitchen and her daughter chilling listening to the radio and singing. She would tell me: “You should always have music if it helps you clean like this!”.
My mom had to work, and soon I would have to too. I started a six hour job the following year, when I was nineteen and I had transferred to a private school that needed to be payed by me. Since then, I never stopped working. Well, until I got married and decided to finish college (I had deferred college due to my move the US). Hence my husband supported the decision, I didn't work for three months, went to Argentina and took the rest of the classes. Then came back and started working again while preparing to write my thesis, three of them. I took my time with that, 2 years, and worked part time.
Two things happen last year, I got fired twice. Yes, I doesn't say much about me, does it? But the truth is I wasn't where I was supposed to be and after I got fired the second time my husband said I could take my time and find a job I really wanted. I decided I would focus on my papers and finish college and I also landed some writing and translation gigs.
But I realized something. And this is going to offend a few women out there. I love to be able to be home and clean. WHAT? I love writing, and I hope one day and I can make money with it. And I'm not against women working. But seeing my mom working and knowing that she would've chosen to stay home I feel lucky to be able to. My husband comes home from an eleven hour day of work and finds a house that looks good and smells good. Maybe some women can do it all. I can't. I can't go to work, come at six p.m, cook dinner, clean and go to bed.
What I want to say is that when I clean I learn to be grateful. Grateful that I have a place to clean. Grateful that I have a table and four chairs, a microwave, a toaster. I'm grateful I have a TV to clean. That I have shelves with books that I can read, in two languages. I am grateful I have a nice bed to sleep at night, with warm blankets. I am grateful I have a bathroom with a shower that releases a lot of water (unlike my parents), and that it releases hot water (I've been to places in Argentina and Chile where they didn't).
Cleaning can be a dread but it's also a blessing. It's a chore but a mission. A job but a hobbie. We can make it a hobbie. And I intend to see it as that from now on.