Blinders

Sometimes I think it would be nice to have the mentality of a man.

Sometimes.

Like in the case where you are living with a dude and the two of you share household chores.

If I were to pick which animal best describes our cleaning habits, I would choose Mark to be an alligator and me to be a bird. It's like the fool wears blinders around the house.

Mark is like an alligator because gators have a very simple mind set. They see what they need to do and just do that one thing. If Mark is heading up to bed for the night, he will simply grab his phone and walk out of the room and head upstairs. He might even take his pants off before flopping into bed.

Me? Heading up to bed is a whole process. I will get up from the sofa, turn off the lights, take a lap to make sure the doors are locked, pet the dogs, fill up my water glass, make sure my gym clothes are set out for the next morning, move the baby gates, tidy up whatever rooms I walk through and then head into my nighttime face routine. 

Teeth flossed, brushed and rinsed. 

Face washed, dried, cream applied.

Hair brushed out.

A chunk of time is spent staring at my stomach and wondering why I decided to eat cake after dinner. (It's like I WANT to sabotage all that hard work!)

Then I have to plug in my phone, stretch out for a bit, fluff up my bed, take a sip of water with my allergy pill and finally, FINALLY head into bed.

Everything is such a routine!

I get frustrated sometimes...well...jealous, really, that he can just focus on that ONE thing and do that ONE thing. 

He can just go take a pee and walk out.

I will have to wipe down the sink, straighten the towels, and check to see if the garbage needs to be taken out BEFORE I even sit down on the pot.  And once I'm sitting, of course there is Instagram scrolling and fixing the floor mats with my toes.

What the hell is wrong with me?

It's like I think I'm being efficient by tackling all these tiny projects on the way to the original, bigger project.

I think that's why women can't remember shit once they finally get into the room they intended to be in.

That is the "bird" aspect in me. Birds are always hopping along pecking at a bunch of little things in their route.

And then when I feel like all I do is run around cleaning up constantly, and realize Mark isn't doing the same thing, I get pissed off because "he isn't helping as much."

But honestly, it's my fault. I am doing this to myself.

The smudges on the mirror by the front door DON'T have to be wiped this very second (maybe the next second, or I will probably lose it)

I don't necessarily have to straighten up the bills in to a nice pile vs. having them strewn about. (ok, that's a lie, they should be in a nice pile)

Ugh...who am I kidding. It's ingrained in my DNA to tidy. I can't help it.

I ALWAYS survey the scene.

Mark just plows through the scene to get to point B.

I ALWAYS wipe the fingerprints off the white walls.

Mark is probably the one that created them.

I ALWAYS take the extra five minutes to double check a room before guests arrive.

Mark is probably in the garage.

I promise I'm not bashing him. We just have two totally different cleaning habits and sometimes my psychotic need for organization takes over my mental control and I flip out on him for not following suit.

That, by the way, is the crazy part. 

Because while I am detail cleaning, he is doing the larger tasks. Mowing the ENTIRE lawn. Providing all necessary maintenance for all of our cars. Handling our pool filter, pool heater, drinking water, sump pump, etc.

Hell, he even does his own laundry most of the time.

I can't really complain. All I can do is lighten up on the details. 

Those don't really matter when it comes down to memories, right?

Right.