The voice in my head was so loud: "You need to dust your fan."
Resigned to ignore it, I continued on the regular cleaning sweep of my bedroom: make the bed, Swiffer the dressers, vacuum the carpet, move to the next room.
"Amanda, it's COVERED in dust; really, it's gross."
I Swiffer-ed the front cover, the base and the chair it sat on. There, good enough.
"The blades are still dirty. You need to dust the fan, Amanda."
FINE!
I could tell the goal of getting my entire apartment cleaned in one day was quickly diminishing. My inner voice - or WHOSE EVER voice it was - had clearly made it's point: the fan in my bedroom (which I use only to save me from an eerily silent bedroom) was filthy. I'd been hearing the voice for months, every time I walked through my bedroom; I supposed it was time I stopped ignoring it.
As I sat on the floor struggling to dismantle my "Living Accents" air twirler, I knew I was in trouble. The word CLEAN was plainly written on my to-do list, and that meant the whole apartment. But the perfectionist in me was taking control; this one act of concentrated deep-cleaning would surely lead to another, and there are not enough hours in the day to scour an entire apartment.
So before I turned into a crazed, caffeinated Merry Maid, I bargained with myself - I would spend two hours maximum dusting, wiping, scraping and tidying my bedroom. The next day I would purify the bathroom, the next day, the living room; by the end of the week, I would have maximized the anti-bacterial quality of my entire apartment while having minimized my stress. Perfection!
Now comfortable with my new goal, I made my way around the room, seeking out the normally overlooked crooks and crannies. It was during this careful expedition that I decided to vacuum underneath the porcelain doll seated in a small wicker chair in the corner of my room. When I moved into this apartment, she came with boxes of items from one of the guest rooms in my old house, where I had put keepsakes from my childhood. When I unpacked her, I couldn't bring myself to stuff her in a closet.
As I transported her and her chair to my bed, I swept away the dust that had gathered on her face. Looking at her, I remember the Christmas my mother gave her to me - I had never seen anything so perfect. Plump baby's cheeks, striking blue eyes, flawless skin. Her fragile porcelain frame was adorned with an equally delicate pale beige lace gown. I adored her so much I placed her in the center of my just-made bed everyday, careful to fluff her dress in a manner that would properly display its beauty.
My childhood daydream was interrupted at the sound of something crinkling beneath my fingers. Confused, I lifted the long layers of skirt, and was shocked to find bubble wrap tightly secured around her tiny legs by rubber bands. Somehow, after at least 20 years, this imperfection had gone unnoticed.
I couldn't believe it. Had I really never peeked under her skirt, just to make sure she had a whole body? Or had I been so taken with her perfect face and perfect gown that I never even wondered if she HAD legs?
Whatever the reason, I decided it was certainly time to finish unwrapping this poor girl. As I popped the plastic air bubbles between my fingers, I marveled at the detail the artist had taken with legs and feet that, up until now, had never even been viewed. Her knees were just slightly bent; the bottoms of her feet had creases in them; and her toes, all curled in microscopically different directions, were accented by perfectly painted toenails to match her perfectly painted fingernails.
Hardly hesitating, I scooped her up, propped her on the pillows in the middle of my just-made bed, and fluffed her dress. It was at that moment a musical note squeaked from somewhere inside her. I had forgotten she played music! I turned the silver knob in her back, and sweet nostalgia washed over me as Braham's "Lullaby" filled my room.
As I gathered my cleaning items, I glanced at my now sparkling white fan, the sole reason my beautiful doll had been restored to her original glory, 20 years later.
With that thought, I fetched the day’s to-do list and made a slight adjustment:
* CLEAN - Bedroom (FAN!). Then I crossed it out.
Turning to my long-term to-do list, I added:
*Remove Bubble Wrap
*Fluff Dress
*Listen for Inner Music
Sometimes, it pays to stop ignoring the voice – and clean your fan.
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