For most of my life, I’ve battled tossing and turning at bedtime, eyes wide open, unable to shut my brain off.

Recently, I started watching mindless YouTube videos to try and get to sleep.

One restless night, I found the gold-mine of insomnia-chasing videos:  cleaning channels. Over 400,000 people tune in to one of the most entertaining cleaners, Jessica Tull.

Jessica and other YouTubers have all kinds of tips for taking your home from a total wreck to a neat-freak’s paradise.

None of the professionals in the videos are distracted by finding the remote control under a couch cushion and settling down for a “Friends” marathon.

No interruptions courtesy of the dog turning over the water bowl.

No balancing the telephone under their ear while trying to scrape gum off the floor.

No frustration in discovering someone left a marker on the rug and there’s a two-inch ring of color around the now-dried-up marker.

After watching Jessica straighten up her kitchen, garage and entire house, I was inspired to be honest with myself.

Exactly what needed cleaning in my house?

Answer:  Everything.

The floors needed mopping, I haven’t dusted in months – oh be honest, years – closets are places I hide things and the only reason our refrigerator is clean is because we had to buy a new one.

No more procrastinating.

It was time to organize, clean and conquer.

I headed to the store, determined to make sure I was fully armed for the task ahead. One hundred and twenty dollars later, I was back home, confident and ready to clean.

Big jobs are always easier if I start with the smallest task. I started with the cabinet where I’ve stockpiled water glasses, coffee cups, Thermos mugs and superhero drinking cups.

I took everything out, threw away the glasses with cloudy bottoms, cracks or chips, wrapped the coffee cups we don’t use in newspaper and put them in a bag to donate.

As instructed by Jessica, I used one of my new cleaning products to wipe down the shelves before putting back only what’s usable.

Result:  Organization.

Energized, I got out the new floor vacuum I’d bought, a Dust-buster on steroids, and ventured into No Man’s Land – underneath the couch.

After months of not cleaning, those dust bunnies were the size of elephants, but my new vacuum sucked them right up, and I only had to empty out the canister three times before I finished.

Next was the cleaning supply cabinet. Sitting on the floor, I realized a few things.

One, I had no idea what some of those cleaners accomplished.

Second, because I was disorganized, there were four bottles of 409, two almost-empty containers of Lysol, an empty can of Comet and three cans of Pledge, one with a missing nozzle.

I was undeterred because, thanks to Jessica, I’d purchased the ultimate cleaning tool, one that empowered me with confidence to tackle anything:  the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.

Mr. Clean’s been the face of powerful cleaning since I was a kid, and the word “magic” promised salvation.

The big bald guy and I got to work.

Three minutes with the Magic Eraser, and the scum on the shower doors was gone.

Same with a few pesky rust stains in the bathtubs and the calcium build up around the faucets.

I went through three of the Magic Erasers before I called it a day.

There’s still a lot left to organize and clean and a lot of cleaning products I need to figure out what they’re good for.

At least I know when all else fails, magic works.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.