The Garage Undertaking
June 28th, 2011
I started a new job yesterday (yay!). My last day at the old job was Tuesday of last week and I purposefully gave myself a few days “off” in between those events. Days when the children could be packed off to daycare and I could have some time to myself. What did I do with this luxurious three day holiday? Sleep? Do my nails? Watch movies?
I cleaned the garage.
Look, I realize this probably labels me as exceedingly lame, but I had been looking forward to the chance to clean my garage for months. I knew I needed a couple kid-free days to accomplish the task and the growing chaos had been eating at my soul for lo these many moons. Our house is a split-level which means no basement. Our only real storage space is a room in the front of the garage. A room which, prior to last week, looked like this:
Honestly, we had never cleaned the garage. Not even when we moved in. We moved in December, a month not particularly conducive to poking around in the garage. So there was random stuff from the previous family already living out there, to which we added our growing mounds of personal belongings, moving boxes, kid gear, etc.
Thus it was that I cranked up the Ace of Base, rolled up my sleeves, and went to work. Junk was thrown away. Boxes were labeled. Cupboards were organized. It was glorious. Except for the moment when I found a dead rat under a partially chewed garbage bag containing who knows what (like I was going to open it after that!). The whole project nearly derailed right then and there because: I. Do. Not. Do. Rats.
Happily, Josh came to my rescue, disposed of the intruder, and I slogged on. I don’t know if I felt liberated or simply repulsed by the fact that a solid 40% of the contents of my garage really belonged in the trash…
|I pity our garbage man. I really do.|