My house is a mess.
After a lovely Christmas, I inevitably wake to harsh reality. The fact is, there is much purging and organizing to be done here at the cottage. Clutter is running rampant. My closets are a mess. Everything, and I mean everything, needs to be sorted into keep or throw away piles. The spare bedroom/office/husband’s studio looks like we just moved in and are using it to store everything until we decide where to put it.
I still haven’t put away the summery things on the porch. Really. It’s December 27th.
More than in any other year I can remember, I have avoided certain tasks – like sorting, organizing and purging – none of which are things I usually want to do. Clean out the closet? I’d rather read a book. Put everything away in the shed? I have to google something. Wade into the mess that is the office? I need a nap. I just haven’t been able to deal with it.
I have a theory. I’ve been suffering from emotional overload this year, much of which I’ve shared with you on this blog. When that happens, I retreat to a safe place. It might be a book, or this blogging world, or my favorite music. I don’t seem to be able to cope with those other, not so fun, tasks that need to be done. I feel overwhelmed at the very thought of them.
I have a feeling that if I just make myself tackle one, the others might follow. I know I will have a feeling of accomplishment.
I’m just about ready.
Unfortunately, I have to tackle some script work today and tomorrow. That has to come first.
But the wheels in my brain are turning. It’s time. Wish me luck!
(I love the way the Hipstamatic camera app makes these messes look sort of fuzzy and artistic. Like I purposely made the mess to take an artsy picture.)
If you’re here for our Defending the Small House Series, Brenda and I are taking a couple of weeks off. We’ll be back with a new installment on January 10th.
