You’re supposed to get all excited about cleaning in the spring, right? Or you’re supposed to feel morally obligated to clean in the spring, thus “Spring Cleaning.” I’m sure there’s some good history in that phrase.
I feel like winter gets the award for being the baking/cooking/getting fat season, and summer is the sunshine and all things outside time of year. Fall is my favorite season, since it’s pretty perfect for all of those previously mentioned things (cleaning aside, as it’s only perfect as a procrastination tool). I also propose that fall be named the official season of home improvement. Something about raking leaves and planting bulbs makes me want to patch holes in my ceiling, too. While I’m at it, what about ripping up my back yard and planning for next year’s garden?
I repotted a plant last night while helping my roommate prep our dinner. It seemed like a good time to sneak in three minutes of gardening, and that tiny piece of productivity set off all of my temporarily dormant home improvement instincts.
I haven’t painted anything in the house since August, I haven’t switched out any light fixtures or put things up on the walls of my bedroom. I haven’t even sorted through my kitchen cabinets to get rid of stuff I don’t need anymore.
So it’s time. It’s time for me to stop enjoying my DVR a whole freaking lot and spend a few extra hours in my shed/back yard/on a ladder. I predict good things as a result. In fact, I predict that I’m going to meet a very nice electrician in the near future, and the wires that have been hanging out of my guest bedroom ceiling since February will be miraculously connected to a ceiling fan. Good things.