Add to that chaos the huge simplification process we've started last spring before summer hit and you have the most dysfunctional house of crap ever. Yeah it really does feel good to write that too because I can say "there's a ball of dog hair the size of a chihuahua behind my bedroom door" and that sliding pile of papers are the bills I'm supposed to be paying, and not feel like a total shlump because TADA I'm working on it.
I'm working on it.
Get off me, I'm working on it.
And I am, I have shuffled a few things around, mucked out my sewing studio, finished the laundry, discovered the dishwasher arm doesn't spin anymore, sorted endless pile of insurance papers, removed unwanted toys from kids rooms, the list goes on and on. And it feels so good. Today I was in my kitchen and I noticed the "pile o' crap of sliding paperwork" was making me feel claustrophobic. I marched right over and swept the whole pile of shit right into a laundry basket and dumped it on my desk. I like to force the issue, if I have huge mess pre-made waiting for me I will eventually have to stop and make it better. If I can "get along with it" I will, but make a huge mess, I'll have to fix it. Works for me.
The 2 foot section of counter being eaten by papers, that mostly don't matter, now holds a pencil/pen/sharp poky thing holder, 1 notepad and a dictionary. Not just a dictionary either, I've had this one since 1988, high school graduation. I have drug this thing all over with me, forced small children to look up words they want to know the definition of, been forced by small children to look up my own words, settled many a dispute and has generally proven itself to be a most noble and notable guest in my house. Worn, thumbed through, well loved, it's there. It says books matter here, words mean things and if you don't know how to spell something we can help you out.
Today my noble and notable guest was challenged. My husband sauntered in and indiscriminately said "y'know I think, er well I know, er uhhh, that thing is uh well out dated, y'know and well" he stopped right about there. Perhaps my evil eye was burning a hole in the back of his head or his skin was crawling, but he shut up. I flared my nose and quietly stated my position that wins this argument every time "yep but the modem on my book never crashes, it's staying" Sure it's out of date, not every word is in there, but it's mine, it's important and best of all it never ever crashes because it's a book.
Peace and Love--
2 comments, thoughts, ideas, random words or haikus:
GREAT post, I think we've all been there. It sounds like you are well on your way to snapping things back in shape (I have a dog hair ball the size of a rabbit behind MY bedroom door too!!). Don't forget there will be PLENTY of time to get your house back in shape as soon as winter arrives. Take a deep breath, pour a cup of tea and above all, don't ditch the old dictionary. We have one from the 1940's (has to be 6" thick) and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Y'know what? The hairball will wait until you're ready for it. The kids will be grown before you know it, and then you'd wonder why you were always so worried about cleaning instead of enjoying the few precious years we have with them.
And if he starts babbling idiocy about your dictionary being out of date again, slug your hubby with it. It will hurt a lot more than the stooopid modem that crashes.
And I can post pictures of my dictionaries if it makes you feel better. 2 are set up as decorations - honest - and I have large and small ones in several different rooms in my house. At least one is from 1933, and I don't really need the definition of modern words anyway. Keep the books; they'll stay with you faithfully.
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