The Great Pee Disaster turned out to be a good thing, believe it or not. Go figure.
A little back story:
After traveling for five months, I had been feeling quite discouraged about the state of my van. It was a mess. I was feeling hemmed in by all the stuff I’d accumulated and couldn’t find a place for.
On top of that, late summer shedding season had begun, and Scout’s hair was everywhere — the floor, the bed, my clothes. I could almost convince myself I had time-traveled back to live in a fur-covered 70s “shaggin’ wagon,” minus the shaggin’.
It was all just too overwhelming. So naturally, I whined about it (as if whining would magically solve the problem) to my friends, Sandi, Mark, and Ben — and badda bing, badda boom, the problem was magically solved. They insisted on cleaning my van. It was a miracle.
But in a few days the van was turning into a mess again — disorganization, dog hair and all.
That’s when the Great Pee Disaster happened
Between the driver and passenger seats, the wet spot on the floor had grown to more than a foot wide. I used all my paper towels blotting it up and then I caved in to the hopelessness of it all: just a week after three wonderful friends had taken everything out and vacuumed and washed every square inch of the van, I couldn’t do a simple thing like keep it that way.
And now, the rank aroma of urine added to my depression. How was I going to get rid of it? Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this #vanlife after all.
I wallowed in self pity for a few hours and wrote a whiny blog post. But then, an old friend and a new one showed up and we went out for sushi, leaving the mess to deal with later. It’s amazing what procrastination, good conversation, and three California rolls will do for my mental state (especially at Vancouver prices — sushi is delicious and CHEAP here.)
In the morning, I awoke with fresh eyes and an uncharacteristic willingness to dig in
On the recommendation of several Facebook commenters, I bought a bottle of Nature’s Miracle Urine Destroyer. It’s made for canine “accidents” but I figured it should work for the human variety as well.
But it turned out to have fragrance in it. I get migraines from fragrance, and wasn’t willing to chance it in the van. Instead, I soaked the spot with vinegar and took the Urine Destroyer back. Let it destroy somebody else’s urine.
More cleanup ensued, the smell was gone, and I learned something.
Before I tell you what I learned, I need to explain something, in case you haven’t figured it out already: I hate to housekeep. That, by the way, was the title of a very funny book by Peg Bracken that I took to heart in my early days as a young housewife back in the 60s.
The hilarious, key takeaway from the book was this: lower your standards.
It was a philosophy I carried with me for literally (and I do mean literally) fifty years.
But apparently, there is still a smidgen of a standard left in me
I can’t live in a mess and be happy. Which means it’s time to woman up and clean the fucking van, like, every week. Maybe even every day, the way I hear normal people do in houses.
Several years ago, I discovered a mental trick that helped me get over my aversion to doing dishes. I started washing them after every meal, telling myself that I was doing Future Me a favor. And sure enough, the next time I walked into my (then actual) kitchen, I murmered a grateful thank-you to Past Me for the clean dishes.
In the process, I discovered a secret heretofore unknown to me: washing two or three dishes once or twice a day was a hell of a lot more pleasant than washing a sinkful (and counterful) when there were no clean dishes left.
Now, I am going to use the same trick and do Future Me a solid by cleaning a little every day, putting things away when I’m done using them, sweeping away the dog hair, and giving Scout a good brushing after every walk.
It won’t be easy at first but know I will thank Past Me for it.
