I am a mess. OK, that may be a slight exaggeration but the truth is I feel as if I am not an organized person. If you were to walk through my house, you’d probably agree. There are toys everywhere, piles of paper, and stuff. Despite my best attempts at straightening up, seconds later, it’s a disaster again. I do enjoy blaming my darling children but hey, they are only 6 and 4 and can only take the blame so much. Then I like to blame my husband. Why can’t he help me straighten up??? But much of the mess isn’t even his.
The ironic thing is that I grew up with pack rat parents. One of my chores was to straighten up the dining room table which always had piles and piles of paper on it. I can remember, age 13 or 14, thinking “I will never, ever be this way. When I have my own house, it’s going to be neat and organized.” I cringe when I remember thinking that way as I look at my dining room table. Damn my parents!
One of the things that has been on my to do list for the past 3-4 months has been to go through the bags and bags of clothes I have in my attic. I have saved all my children’s clothes for my sister in laws. Finally, I now have a niece. And she is waiting to receive her cousins clothes. What the hell is wrong with me!?!?!
This morning I felt inspired to begin sorting the stuff. I went through about 6 bags. Yippee…..right? No, instead of feeling happy that I finally got started, all I could think of was “Shit, I still have 89 more bags left. This is going to take forever!”
At that point, I was beginning to feel nauseous, so I put on my sneakers and took a power walk. Now I’m back feeling slightly better. It’s true that I still have at least 89 more bags to sort through, at least I got started.
I am a neat and organized person. Can I get an Amen?