March 28, 2022

Nothing Ever Gets Done

To stay organized, I write future plans in my planner.
I also decorate it to encourage myself to use it.
The unadorned pages covered in commitments call to me.
        No, purple. 
            Yes, Purple.
                With stars!

I have purple and yellow colored pencils, markers, and pens,
    None of which are on hand.
I do not share my art tools with the children,
For I have seen what they do to their own.
But Daughter needed colored pencils.
       And she had none.
        So I let her use mine.
They must be in her room.

I open her door.
It smells.
I reach over the bed to open the window.
There is food and trash among the blankets,
    And stains on the sheets.

She can not sleep and play in here.

A bag for the trash,
A pile of the dishes,
Thank God for the waterproof mattress cover.
It can go in the washing machine with everything else.
I feel something wet,
    Under my foot.
        It is slime,
            Embedded in the carpet.
How do you remove slime from the carpet?
Google: “How do you remove slime from the carpet.”
    Ice—but only if the slime is fresh.
    Baking soda and vinegar—will also bleach the carpet.
    Dish soap—
Dish soap is wonderful: It cleans anything out of everything.
The dish soap does not immediately make itself present.
Maybe floor soap will work.

Once the slime is out and the carpet dries, I will need to vacuum.
Let me grab the vacuum,
It should be down here.
It is not down here.
Why isn’t it down here?

He’s the only one who forgets to replace the vacuum.
I grab the vacuum attachments since I will need them as well,
    And carry them as I look for the vacuum cleaner’s hiding spot,
        Which is Husband’s room.
        Because his room is the only room he ever cleans.

I go into Daughter’s room.
The smell.
I forgot to remove the bedding—I should do that first.
On the way down to the laundry room,
    I grab a favorite pillow of Daughter’s to wash as well.
Everything will not fit in a single load.
At least one load gets started, and I make a mental note to continue doing laundry.

I return to Daughter’s room.
The smell is a little better.
    The vacuum waits for me.
        I should vacuum Daughter’s carpet next.
            Everywhere except the spot of slime.
                Since vacuums don’t like wet stuff.

The vacuum is actually working really well,
    Typically it tries to suck in the edges of the carpet,
        And the rotating brush gets stuck as it grips on the shag fibers.
Not this time.
This is amazing.
    Except the stickers aren’t coming out.
        Well, they have adhesive,
            So I will pick them out later.
    The crumbs are not coming out either.
There is no debris collecting inside the vacuum’s chamber and the suction is poor.
An amber light tells me it is clogged.
But upon inspection, there is no clog.
Perhaps the filter is dirty.
The filter is wet.
Why is the filter wet?
What did Husband do to the vacuum cleaner to make the filter wet?

Also, it smells.
So I wash it.
I would normally use dish soap to clean something like this,
    But I still don’t know where the dish soap is,
        So I use the floor soap.
I vaguely recall that the filter should not be washed with soap, just water.
Too late.

The filter is still wet.
It will take an entire day to dry.
    And I still need to use the vacuum cleaner.
….I use my hairdryer to quickly dry the filter.
    The heat gun would be even faster!!
        The heat gun would probably melt the filter.
            The hairdryer will be safer.

I get the hairdryer from the bathroom.
I should do this in the bathroom.
The filter might spray droplets of dust-saturated moisture all over the place.
It won’t—because I already cleaned it—but only clouds of dust came to mind.
I turn on the hairdryer.
    I think it’s working.
        Shouldn’t something be happening?
            This is taking too long.
I’ll have to give it a day to dry.

I should put the filter next to the vacuum’s home so I can find it later.
I also need to charge the vacuum,
And the vacuum’s attachments should go with it.

I enter Daughter’s room.
The smell is faint.
The window is open,
There are no sheets on the bed,
And there is slime in the carpet.
I need to saturate the slimy spot with soap.
I use the floor soap—I am technically cleaning the floor.
It will need a few minutes to break down the slime.
    I should take a break.
        I have completely forgotten why I went into Daughter’s room in the first place.

As soon as I settle at my desk,
My planner reminds me that I need colored pencils to decorate it.
That was why I went into Daughter’s room,
    To find my colored pencils.

I check.
They are not there.
The window is open.
The mattress is bare.
The carpet is covered in stickers and crumbs,
And there is a mushy wet spot.

My daughter can not sleep or play in here.

….And my planner still begs for purple with stars.
I haven’t gotten anything done.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Nice poem, it's a bit like our home too. It was nice to meet you at Galaxycon in Richmond, I hope things are going well with you and yours.