One of my…let’s just say…issues is being organized. Now I have drawers stuffed full of junk but there is always a semblance of organization at the core.
To put it simply if not delicately – I know where my shit is.
99.9% of the time.
I’m not about to claim I have a perfect photographic memory but I do have one of sorts. I read – rather quickly – and I don’t know how or why but if I need to go back and find something I can tell about where in the book it is – whether it’s on a left or right side of the book and whether it’s near the top or bottom of that page.
When the other members of this household ask me where something is – if I’ve seen it – I can tell them where to find it.
Having this guy makes life a little more complicated. The boy goes through bottles like no one’s business and comes with more accessories than Barbie.
Dave and I made a list yesterday and embarked on a mission. We cleaned the Living Room and the Dining Room of clutter. Finished the Guest Room (which we started MONTHS ago). Then I cleaned out my pantry. I had no idea what was in there and it made me ill every time I opened the door. A place where I was supposed to store staples became a virtual black hole.
This is not the first time I’ve done all this. I just spent a good 20 minutes trying to find the last post of me organizing the cupboards (back when Dave and I were first dating) and then realized you probably don’t care about THESE pictures let alone a link to cabinets from 2 years ago.
I have two teenagers and a 10 year old here. Ramen and Chef Boyardee are staples.
Baby formula on a shelf next to Diet Coke. This says a lot about me as a person.
This corner of my kitchen was a nightmare. I had about 9 bottles of various oils and vinegars cluttering up the space.
And look at my shiny new backsplash!!! (You have NO idea what it was like before). Someday my kitchen will be completely redone. For now this has made a world of difference.
Organizing stuff calms me down. For me at the heart of it all - clutter = chaos. Even though I am at times my own worst enemy in this regard. I would gladly show you my newly organized closets – but not the horror show that is my armoire or my nightstand.
But for now – we’ve made a dent and it’s making me happy.