I have never claimed to be a good house keeper. In fact, I acknowledge I suck at it. I firmly believe the saying "Mental illness is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results" applies to dusting.
That said, I've thought I improved my level of cleanliness in the last 4 years. I went from living in a way that could only be described as "hoarder chic" to a constantly tidy home. I blame my husband and his hatred of chaos and water spots for that. Before I moved in, The Guy's house looked like a show home - neat, uncluttered, and spotless. That was not me. I used to be comfortable in mess and chaos. Now I cannot keep myself from tidying when I'm a guest in someone's home. Don't worry, when I do it I'm not judging you, I'm just dealing with my OCD issues.
*rocking back and forth muttering about clutter*
I thought I was a cleaner and better person. Sure, I wasn't super Mr. Clean lady but my house was relatively tidy. (By this I mean compared to all my relatives.) I picked up after myself, I dusted once a week, I cleaned toilets!
I was proven horribly disgustingly wrong.
The day we cleaned out of our house was the day I realized I haven't changed a whole lot. Even worse, we had a friend who is a supreme neat freak helping us. Moving the bed frame revealed 4 years of dirt and dust bunnies. The fridge had a congealed pool of UFG (Unidentified Foreign Grossness) which took our friend almost an hour to scrub out. The lazy-Susan had about 3 loaves of bread crumbs settled at the bottom. And the stove... oh, the stove.
Our friend mentioned the oven was "self-cleaning" and how happy she was for that because of the level of grime. It was not until she mentioned how hot it got during the cleaning cycle that I realized I had no idea what she was talking about. I had always cleaned the oven old school style -- spray foamy stuff, let it sit, wipe it out. Isn't that self-cleaning? Isn't that why I only did it twice in the 4 years we lived there?
Um, no. Apparently, the entire world knows that a self-cleaning oven is one you hit a button, it locks up tight, heats up to the temperature on the surface of Mars, and burns out anything and everything stuck to it. When I mentioned I had never heard of this, everyone present looked at me like I'd said I didn't know how to use toilet paper.
The friend patiently walked me through the steps of self-cleaning. It was like discovering a whole new world. She smiled indulgently as I watched the lock engage and the heat start to climb. But I had to admit, I felt I had been robbed of this knowledge in the past. How long had I suffered cleaning stoves when I didn't have to? Where was I when these things came into existence?
Honestly? I was likely ordering take out.