I was up until 1:00 A.M. doing this

Believe it or not I’ve been off fighting a foe, a very brutal, unforgiving enemy who creeps up on you and gives you nightmares. I am of course talking about mold. Yes Mold and I had it out this weekend, and man do I have a kink in my neck. I’m ashamed to say that at one point I thought the battle was lost. But I am persistent. Once I have my mind made up about something, I am not content with the world until my goal has been accomplished. For example, reuniting NKOTB. That was my doing. You’re welcome.

Anyway, normally Mold and I do not have issues, especially not in my bathroom. This may have something to with the fact that I live in a dry climate area, one that sucks the moisture and life out of most living organisms, Mold included. So imagine my surprise when a week ago I starting seeing grayish spots on the grout and caulking in my shower/bathtub. I was stunned speechless. I may have even drooled at little too. I thought I had been granted a Mold-free card in compensation for the Hideous Sinuses I’ve had to endure the past few years. Apparently not so. Mold does not give out such cards.

I gave the mildew or mold or whatever it was a good scrubbing but it remained stalwart, like Mold is known to do. In fact it multiplied and got darker. That’s when I realized I have anger issues because I got really seething mad at that Mold. I was now a lunatic mad woman on a mission. An epic battled followed.

I researched online for an annoying amount of time, then formulated a plan. I went to the store and found these four guys all hanging out together in the cleaning aisle, like guys with mustaches tend to do.  

That bleach guy looked a little scary and I told him he was only a last resort, because generally speaking I hate that guy. I don’t even let him in my house anymore since I’ve lost one too many favorite shirts to the evilness that is he.

Now per the advice of someone online, they said to gather your materials and attack the mold in your birthday suit (so only your skin gets ruined and not your clothes), then take a shower immediately following. I just didn’t have the guts (or stupidity) to do this. I did see the merit though in taking a shower afterwards. Rinse off the shower and me. Win, win. So I just stripped down to my skivvies and started with Softscrub . . . on the shower. I figured I might as well get rid of some soap scum too while I was at it so I went to town my friends. To town! Oh it was probably a sight to behold. Glad I locked the door.

When I was done that shower was looking sparkly, all except for the mold, which remained. And I found more in three different spots upon further investigation. Feeling icky, I decided to shower and think of Plan B. It was not the most enjoyable shower I’ve ever had. Forgot to take off my rubber gloves at first.

I decided magic erasers deserved a try next. But it was a no go on the mold/mildew. It worked wonders though on the traction spots at the bottom of the tub. Five points to whoever knows the official name of those things that keep you from falling on your wet butt.

Next up, vinegar. Now I love vinegar just as much as the next gal. I mean what is there not to love about all that acidity power action? But it stinks. I was really hoping the first two options would have worked. But alas, it was time for the stink. I poured vinegar on some paper towels and stuck them to the problem areas. Let it soak for an hour or so while I sat there and twiddled my thumbs. Okay fine. I went and had some ice cream. Same thing. The potent smell of the vinegar would have been worth it if it had worked. It didn’t.

That meant it was time to bleach it up. And if this option didn’t work I was going to stab myself in the big toe. I poured the bleach on the paper towels and stuck them to the problems areas. This step was even stinkier than the vinegar. The Husband, sensing something was afoot, came in and asked me, “What is this operation?” all annoying and questioning like. I made him leave because he was obviously making fun of me. Maybe I was a little on edge. But wouldn’t you be too, what with bleach in the vicinity?

Well I’m happy to say my big toe is still intact. Bleach did the trick as sad as that is. I guess in this case though I had to fight evil with evil. But now the problem is I feel dirty inside. And there’s a bottle of bleach staring at me . . . just staring at me.