Parting Shot: If the SWAT team comes…

To my surprise, I discovered it was a team of police officers, wondering if I was harboring someone was sought in a crime. Now, if you know anything about me, I’m not likely to harbor anyone but myself.

Sure, I move like Dale Earnhardt Jr. when people call before they come over.

But if you stop by unexpectedly, I’ll likely crack the door 3 inches and pretend I’ve got plumbing issues.

Part of the problem is exhaustion. If, like me, you come home feeling like you’ve just been through basic training, you know there’s no energy left to sterilize the bathroom, cook for a week and karate chop the living room pillows.

Many days, I don’t even have the heart to set the table and eat like real people do. I dine over the sink, thus avoiding the need to do dishes.

I avoid going into rooms that are “untouched” (thus preventing me from messing them up) and I wait until every shirt I own has been worn before I even think about pulling out the ironing board. (Then, it becomes a marathon, usually one accompanied by a TV series binge – a long TV series binge.)

The dining room table is often home to my “things to do.” There are stacks for mail, papers, magazines, bills and laundry.

While I’m very good at folding towels and sorting socks, I’m very bad at putting them away. Yes, I know that it just takes a few steps to do that but, often, I can get distracted. One phone call. One Google search. One crossword puzzle and I’m out.

Days pass and, still, there’s a mountain of washcloths sitting near my thank-you notes. I get around to putting them in the linen closet when there are no more there. Lazy, I know. But that’s just the way it is.

In the bedroom, I discovered the joys of comforters. When we only had bedspreads, I could leave the bed undone for a week. Now, that glorious invention has made it simple. Just pull the thing over the blankets and you’re done. Bed made. Bam!

I’m not that good at putting belts, ties and shoes away (my floor is like a land mine) but I will put dirty laundry in the hamper and re-hang pants. Again, priorities.

Thanks to a system of bins, buckets and drawers, I’m much better in the bathroom.

Years of drooling over the Container Store catalog have made me well organized in the room with the best lighting.

I have containers for all sorts of things and, after I’m done in the morning, all I have to do is put them in their proper place. The counter is cleared and ready to be cleaned. A spritz of Lysol, a spray of Windex, a douse of Tilex and I’m good. The place looks like it’s ready for a health inspection.

“Show” towels (and you know what I mean – the kind that are never used) hang untouched because the ones I use are too ratty to be put out for company. The “regular rotation” ones are used once, thrown in the hamper and sent to the laundry room where they get cleaned faster than anything else. (Why? Because it’s very easy to say, “I did laundry today,” when all I really did was toss towels in the washer and dryer.)

Once I got a turbo dishwasher, I haven’t worried about cups, glasses and plates. I’m not all that good at taking them out and putting them away. But, hey, two washings never hurt any dish.

Vacuuming, however, is another matter. I have three vacuums and hate using two of them. They’re too heavy. The third works well, but I resent using it because I don’t want to walk on the results (if I don’t, it looks like a hotel room. Classy.).

Windows are a whole other problem. By keeping the drapes and blinds closed, I don’t see how truly dirty they are. (Besides, natural light just encourages dust.)

I frequently go on Pledge sprees and, for a good day or two, it looks like I polished furniture like a high-end carpenter.

I’m bad about changing lightbulbs, but that’s just because I don’t like to get on ladders.

And, if I have too much lighting you’ll see all of my housekeeping sins.

That is, of course, if I let you in the door.

SWAT team or not.