Saturday, July 01, 2006

Breather ...

Sheesh. Now I know why I only have one big party a year. And I'm now more convinced than ever that I suffer from selective obsessive-compulsive disorder. Yes, I know that's not the name of it. I made it up to suit me.

I'm not Jack Nicholson in "As Good As It Gets." I don't have to lock and unlock the door a certain number of times when I get home. I don't have my M&Ms separated by color. I don't need a new bar of glycerin soap every time I wash my hands. But when I get an idea in my head, it's really hard for me to let it go.

It all started with cleaning a window. Which made me think that I should clean all the windows. But since I had to take out the screens to get to the windows, I cleaned the screens, too. But since I had to take down the curtains to really get to the windows, I washed and dried and rehung all the window treatments. Mind you, I didn't do that just because people are coming over for the 4th, but because it really needed to be done. My timing is just sort of absurd. In the throes of it the other day, Doreen called. She asked what I was doing. When I told her, she said, "Oh, Jesus, Beth." Well, it's not like I'm washing curtains every time she calls. Some of them hadn't been washed in - this is embarrassing to admit - a couple years.

I dig the frenzy, in a weird way. Yeah, it wipes me out, but it's so satisfying to accomplish all these things. My newly stained deck looks fabulous. It's green, my favorite color. And the railings, very Craftsman-style, are crisp white. I can't wait to get my furniture back out there and start living on the deck again. I've decided that I need to spend much more time out there this year with friends. I have outdoor speakers. I have one of those mosquito-deterring lanterns hanging near the deck stairs. I have a freezer full of vodka and gin. Bring on the tonic and limes!

So I haven't been spending much time in front of my computer for the past few days, and by the time night rolls around, I'm too damn tired and uninspired to write anything. But today, after a morning full of grocery shopping (so I can start cooking Monday for the 30 people who will be here on Tuesday), I planted my butt on the couch to watch the second half - and the overtime - and the second overtime - and the sudden death - of Portugal v. England.

There's nothing like watching a bunch of guys running themselves to the point of exhaustion to make me feel less tired.

Time to go scrub the bathroom floor.


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