Life On Hold? Put Down The Windex

Nothing is more annoying than a neat-nick, always out there extolling the virtues of living dirt- and dust-free.

And if the clean freaks aren't enough to make you crazy, the organizational police are even worse - you know, those lunatics who think you should only handle a piece of paper once and then know exactly where it went.

Oh, please, as if digging through the trash can looking for your insurance bill is a bad thing. I've always been suspicious of people with no mounds of paper on their kitchen counters. Do they not get any mail?

When it comes to domestic duties, most of us tend to fall into one of two camps: those who can't stand to see a job undone, and those who can't stand to do it.

While no one in her right mind likes to clean a toilet and even fewer people want to use a dirty one, one of those two activities is probably more loathsome to you than the other.

Being a woman with an extremely high tolerance for dirt, I'd be more likely to whip out a paper seat cover in my own home than to risk breaking a nail reaching for a scrub brush.

I've defended my sloppy ways for years and successfully thwarted all efforts to turn me into a domestic drone, but I'm beginning to wonder if all those organized people know something about life management I don't.

After all, they can lay their hands on their kids' birth certificates. They don't have to shove their unsorted mail into the dryer before guests arrive. They haven't washed the same sweater three times just because it never made it out of the hamper.

If only they weren't so darn self-righteous I might be tempted to emulate their ways.

As someone who fancies herself as a creative type, I've always believed boring chores and rigid routines were stifling to say the least. After all, how can you think about anything interesting when you're worried about how many more minutes your whites need to soak?

And as the author of "Forget Perfect" (Penguin/Putnam) I've made it my personal mission to free women from the bondage of housework. But the irony of not being able to find a pen to jot down my latest rant against housekeeping is not lost on me.

When it comes to the "Do you clean your house or don't you" question, I think many of us are missing the point. It's not about whether or not you clean - it's about why.

When many people talk about the need to clean, they're often worried about the impression their house is making on others. As in, "I can't have Aunt Myra over because toys are all over the floor." Or "we can't have a party until we get new carpet."

Truth be told, letting others see your messy house actually makes people feel better about their own piles of crud back home. So if you're cleaning, or feeling guilty about not cleaning, because of what the neighbors think, get over it.

And if you think a spit-shined house means you're a better mother, I can promise you nothing could be further from the truth. I can't tell you how many women I've met who are so worried about their houses, they can't focus on their kids.

Cleaning to meet the standards of others makes no sense whatsoever, And if you can't relax until your house looks perfect, you're never going to get any sleep at all.

But I can also tell you from firsthand experience, living your life in a disorderly mess costs you plenty in terms of time and trouble. Having to buy three bar mitzvah cards for your nephew because you're constantly misplacing them before they get sent is hardly an efficient effort. And while too much cleaning and organizing may feel like indentured servitude, looking all over the house for your keys doesn't feel like freedom either.

I think the secret to creating bliss in your home lies in prioritizing yourself above your stuff. If cleaning up something or filing it away makes things easier for you in the long run, create a system that enables you to do it. But if you think life finally is going to be good when you get rid of your dust bunnies, you might want to rethink your efforts.

For me, a functional house means living with soap scum but knowing where I can find my tax return. Maybe in my next life I'll have color-coded files, cute little bins for all personal items and all my soups lined up in alphabetical order.

But for now, until I learn to be the good example, I'll just have to be the horrible warning for the dark and dirty side.

Snellville resident Lisa Earle McLeod is a nationally recognized speaker and the author of "Forget Perfect: Finding Joy, Meaning, and Satisfaction in the Life You've Already Got and the YOU You Already Are." She has been seen on "Good Morning America" and featured in Lifetime, Glamour and The New York Times.

Contact Lisa at www.ForgetPerfect.com if you would like additional columns.

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