The Big Clean

The worst part about moving out is the big clean.

 

“It’s never gonna end!” I yell as I discover yet another pile of crap sitting in the corner of a room I thought was empty.

I hate moving…..well…I like the new beginning and all…but the actual act of moving is frustrating. The furniture has all been transported to my new dwelling but there is still so much to do.

“Just chuck it on the back of the trailer!” chirps my brother; my lifesaver.

“I really thought I was organised” I say to my sister as she begins to scrub my bathroom. “I have a 'to do' list and everything”.

“I know” she replies, bleach in one hand, sponge in the other, “Doesn’t matter how organised you think you are, there’s always so much you didn’t think about”.

I picture her sparkling clean home. 

Yeah right. Like her place would be this disorganised and filthy. I cringe as I remember the sludge that was discovered under the washing machine when it was moved.

Boxes, boxes and more boxes.

“That one is full of stuff to be donated”

“That one is really heavy so be careful”

“That one is…oh s**t, what’s in that one?”

Even as the my brother left, his trailer loaded to the max, there is still a lot of stuff to be packed into my car and a lot of cleaning to do.

“It’s never gonna end!”  I cry.

Top to bottom, dry work to wet work. Vacuum last ready for the carpet cleaners.

Cobwebs done, again; “They come back overnight!” I wince as I once again brush them away from the corners of the ceiling.

Bi-carb soda and damp cloths for the scuff marks on the walls. Yay it works. “Kids, I’ve got a job for you!” Reluctantly two teenage girls take the bi-carb and cloths and start scrubbing.  

Scrub the kitchen time. The stove top and the dreaded oven, the cupboards, the drawers, the bench top….where did that yellow stain come from? Holy crap! Never noticed it before, hopefully the Real Estate agent won’t notice it when they do the final inspection. The sink needs to sparkle.

A strong smell of bleach wafts into the room from the bathroom.

“Oh wow, head spins!” calls my sister.

“How much bleach did you use?”

“You can never use too much bleach!” she replies.

“Fair enough” I called back, hoping she doesn't pass out.

Check the bedrooms. Oh no! I forgot about the top of the shelf in the wardrobe. So dusty.

“It’s never gonna end!”

It's time to polish the glass door to the patio. Oh this really messes with my head. I polish one side then see the smears on the other. I polish the other side then I see the smears on the side I just polished so I go back and polish that side then I see smears again on the other side so I go and do that side then…just not gonna look at it anymore!

Now for the windows. Just water and a squeegee. No more polishing. Oh there’s a smear on the…no; don’t look; must not look.

Finally my sister emerges from the bathroom. She took so much longer to clean it than I would have. What the hell was she doing? Oh my god I can see my face in the taps!

“Finished the walls!” the kids beam at their handy work. I just see the remnants of bi-carb around the skirting boards then notice how dusty the skirting boards are.

 

Night time and I fall into my lounge in the new place. I smell like grease, bleach, window cleaner and the take away food I just consumed. Desperate for a shower I an relived at the thought of just handing in the keys to my former house to the REal Estate and it will all be over. Then I remember the garden still needs weeding and the garage floor needs to be scrubbed, and, did I replace that light bulb? 

It’s never gonna end!