I like things tidy.
As a general rule I am organized, and appreciate a minimalistic approach.
I highly value cleanliness and order.
Here’s my living room:
See? Tidy.
The kids bathroom:
Clean. Minimal.
**and please ignore the brass…we’re renting**
Even the “filled up” spaces are pretty orderly.
Here’s our kitchen mantle:
My husband decorated it. Isn’t he awesome? And let’s not skip over how incredible it is that I have a fireplace in my kitchen!
So someone please explain the complete cluster that is my desk.
Every time I walk past it I think “this isn’t me” Or “how has this happened” or “what’s wrong with you?” or if I’m feeling sassy “dang girl…getcho crap together, that is nasty.”
There’s my second copy of “Pride and Prejudice” that has been there for almost a year…someone, please, take it from me!
Every night I tidy up the whole house before bed. Except my desk. Yep. It just sits there. Collecting more junk mail and papers that fit into a “to be filed” and “to be shredded” and “to be paid” and “deal with at some point int he future…” category. It’s also the holding place for “things that belong to other people.”
I seriously almost bought a groupon for 2 hours of organizational help, just so someone else could deal with it.
It’s my “McDonalds”: that part of every person that they are ashamed to admit is actually a part of them…(stole this from a Jim Gaffigan stand-up on Netflix…complete hilarity by the way).
I mean, honestly, I should be cleaning it up right now rather than telling you people about it…
sigh…anyone else?
live well. be well.
