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.