You know, the day where you still feel uggy and tired, but just not as sick as you were? It's a tough day, at least for me. I tend to over do it. I'm just not great at lounging on the couch. Sue me.
So, this time I decided to really limit myself. I said one project, and it could not involve stair climbing or paint. Little project. Like cleaning the fan. Yes, I just said "cleaning the fan." Soooo sexy. See, I moved the fan that lives on the bookcase in the family room, to make room for the Spode tree. And, whoa, it was so dirty that I was physically unable to put it into storage until I cleaned it.
Now, you say, didn't I know it was dirty? Well, yes, but I would run a dustcloth over it and turn away. Honestly, it overwhelmed me.
But, on the gap day? It seemed like an ideal project. Just stand at the sink and meticulously clean the damned thing. Right? So, I carried it in and made a plan. The front popped off. Nice! Into the sink and strainer. Progress!
And then...I got overwhelmed. The insides were some how greasy. And cat-hairy. Gross. So, I needed soap. No mere wiping would do. So, I started carefully scrubbing and rinsing each blade with alternating soapy sponge and clean sponge, trying to control the water and suds, to keep from completely flooding the motor part. Total pain in the ass. Really. I don't say that lightly.
And then it hit me. I actually said out loud, "No one ever got thrown out of the happy homemaker club for having a soapy fan." Yes, yes I did. And so I wrapped the base/motor in a towel, flipped it on it's side and soaped the hell out of it.
And then? I didn't even rinse it. Embrace the suds! Embrace the power of evaporation!
If it smells like Dawn Liquid when I turn it out in June, so be it.