My dining room floor

I had no idea when I chose the name A Woman My Age that it would continue to be so appropriate.  I chose it because that’s the phrase I kept hearing over and over when I was trying to conceive.  It’s also a little play on the words “advanced maternal age”.  And now at this point in my life when I’m in a MLC (mid life crisis) and dealing with PM (perimenopause), there’s a lot of WTF going on here.  So you will see a lot of password protected posts because I’m aware that stuff is so painful and so personal that I can’t let it flap TOTALLY in the internet wind.

I washed the dining room floor the other day with a special wooden floor cleaner.  Why is this significant?  I had mentioned that maybe we needed a special cleaner cause the floor looked so dull and of course, hubby said why bother we’re only renting and we’ll be moving soon and that just stuck in my head.  I started to fixate on the dull wooden floor.  DH had taken the Precious and the dog out, so I instead of doing nothing,  I straightened up a little.  Then I looked at the floor and thought, let’s try that V.im cleaner that I bought  surreptitiously the other day.  Mmmm, well, it was a little cleaner but it didn’t really improve the dullness.  By that time, hubby was home and was surprised that I had spent the time washing the floor.  I noticed the dog hair stuck to the legs of the chairs and though I had swept up the hair moments before, when I replaced the chairs, the hair was back again.  The chairs need replacing.  The seats sag.  I got a big residual check the other day and opted to get my weave redone instead of buying a dining set.  Vanity wins every time.  If you are a black woman and reading this, this will make perfect sense to you. If you saw my head, you would have taken pity on me.

Anyways, my point is the floor.  It’s been bugging me for weeks.  Months even.  It just seemed like such a pointless task that I never attempted it.  It’s a metaphor for my life really.  Needing to be thoroughly cleaned, maybe even restripped and refinished.  Me avoiding doing it, DH saying why bother,  but knowing in my heart that the effort needs to be made.  I didn’t enjoy doing it, but I enjoyed making the attempt.  I know this sounds completely goofy,  but it mattered to me somehow.  I had the time and space to do it.  I had vacuumed, swiffered it and still there was more dirt.  More stickiness.

 

 

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6 thoughts on “My dining room floor

  1. Yes. I get this so completely. I have been thinking of you since your last post. What resonates so much with me here is the joy you found in making the attempt — even if the result wasn’t what you had hoped for — because in a way — doing that thing — that thing that had been in the back of your mind to do — was a stand for self, really, wasn’t it? It sort of seems like it. I freakin’ hate my living/dining room area. I rearrange the battered furniture — (all of which will never be free of the animal smells no matter how much I wash the slipcovers) — the cat claw marks…the stupid home depot lamp…the furniture we bought because it was on clearance at the Room and Board outlet — the only way we’d pony up for vaguely nice furniture… and the rest are IKEA things or hand me downs from various places. Lately I’ve been wondering why I’m obsessing over my living room couch. WHO CARES. It seems symbolic to me somehow — like my mother who had the same damned couch for thirty years…and has washed the slipcover so many times its nearly transparent…wanting MORE than that maybe, I don’t know.

    As for hair…I’m not a black woman but let me tell you it had been A YEAR since a professional touched my hair. A YEAR. It was like Duggar’dly long..(you know that reality show uber-fertile homeschooling lady? Yeah, that.) Not sexy just way too long. I finally have an appointment for a color this week — simply because I look in the mirror these days and can’t escape the fact that I am getting older — I realize now that I should have blessed the years and days I wore no makeup and thought nothing of it…that was all the bloom of youth so clearly fading.

    UGH.

    Yep, I am vain. You wouldn’t know it by the yoga pants I wore when I took Z to the zoo this morning though…

    xoxoox I am thinking of you so often…

    Love,

    P

  2. Life as a dining room floor. I love it. : ) There is a certain satisfaction in tackling a job that you’ve been procrastinating on, even if the results aren’t quite what you hoped for or expected. You tried. Maybe you’ll try something else that will work better, or maybe it takes more than one attempt to get all the dirt. ; ) Good luck!

  3. I get this, I really do. maybe not the weave so much, but like pam, I’ve been known to go way too long without paying attention to myself, my body, and at times, my relationships.

    I do agree there is something to be said for the effort, because it’s in the attitude as well. to not try is to say, why bother, it’s not important enough, it’s not worth fixing. it’s like, why bother doing dishes or dusting or vacuuming, there will only be more mess soon enough. but that is not the point. it’s the effort to maintain, to pay attention, to improve, that’s what makes the difference. there’s simply no room to ultimately to evolve and grow if you don’t make some initial effort even if it’s unsuccessful.

    I do hope he is willing to take those steps, even if your floor remains dullish. xoxo

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