I'm a slob. There, I've said it. Aren't you shocked that someone who calls herself a fussbudget could be such a horrible thing? Well clutch your pearls with your white gloved hands because it's true. For years it has really been my dirty secret. (Pun intended). I'm not really a "dirty" slob, I'm more of a "never put anything in it's proper place and never even really have a proper place for most things" kinda slob. This is partly who I am and partly situational. I live in a lilliputian apartment by many peoples standards, and I'm a collector of certain types of things. Put these two things together and what do you get?? A mess.
Have I tried to set things right over the years? Oh sure. There have even been times when I felt that I was making progress in being like everyone else, or what I imagine everyone else to be like. I start out with Rubbermaid bins and cleaning supplies and a vow that 'THIS TIME, IT WILL BE DIFFERENT". And it even is, for a while. Recently I did a massive cleaning out binge and ridded myself of about 25 bags full of useless stuff. It felt fabulous. There was a scary moment when I found a television (yes, a television), a card table ,two pairs of crutches and pillows from another era in the closet.
Even after a cleaning, eventually things migrate all over the place again. I'm tired from work, life etc. I'm not a good organizer. Before I know it, my earrings are on top of the TV, my bra is over a kitchen chair and my lip gloss is on the windowsill in the bathroom. If I was a celebrity, I would hire someone who would follow me around and prompt me to keep everything in it's proper place, and no one would know my dirty secret. My dream is to live in a home where there is no evidence that I actually live there. A place, that is so perfect that it looks like a showroom display or something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Maybe an occasional precious cup of tea (which I do not drink) which is perched on a darlingly rustic end table next to my Adirondack style bed which is casually covered in vintage hand sewn quilted comforters...there may even be two perfectly baked and decorated cookies on the edge of the teacups' saucer.Of course, there will only be TWO cookies, not an entire fistful or sleeve as a normal person would actually have. The person who lives in this environment would never eat more than two cookies at a time unlike me. Slob that I am I would probably pound down 4-5 at the least. Lets not get into PMS, then we are talking an entire sleeve from the box. I am nearly certain though that this person never gets PMS and even manages to wear white pants during this time of the month while I am hunkered down in my giant elastic waist get up till the bloat subsides.
But that is neither here nor there (I've always wanted to say that). The real issue here is that I have decided that I am a slob and that yes, I can do better but I am going to stop beating myself up for my slobbery. I was very worried when my love broke up with me that I would never find another man who I could trust enough to come into my environment and to not judge me. My man never did, he loved me and my apartment was not something he criticized or thought less of me for. He actually found it charming because I am so together in other ways this is kind of surprising but it wasn't a deal breaker for him. My other qualities are just going to have to compensate for this fault.
So to all those messy girls out there, keep living your thrilling lives and forget about having a perfect kitchen/bathroom, living room. I'm not saying to be totally apathetic and give up, all I'm saying is to be kinder to yourselves and put this stuff in perspective.
That's all for now :)
Have I tried to set things right over the years? Oh sure. There have even been times when I felt that I was making progress in being like everyone else, or what I imagine everyone else to be like. I start out with Rubbermaid bins and cleaning supplies and a vow that 'THIS TIME, IT WILL BE DIFFERENT". And it even is, for a while. Recently I did a massive cleaning out binge and ridded myself of about 25 bags full of useless stuff. It felt fabulous. There was a scary moment when I found a television (yes, a television), a card table ,two pairs of crutches and pillows from another era in the closet.
Even after a cleaning, eventually things migrate all over the place again. I'm tired from work, life etc. I'm not a good organizer. Before I know it, my earrings are on top of the TV, my bra is over a kitchen chair and my lip gloss is on the windowsill in the bathroom. If I was a celebrity, I would hire someone who would follow me around and prompt me to keep everything in it's proper place, and no one would know my dirty secret. My dream is to live in a home where there is no evidence that I actually live there. A place, that is so perfect that it looks like a showroom display or something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Maybe an occasional precious cup of tea (which I do not drink) which is perched on a darlingly rustic end table next to my Adirondack style bed which is casually covered in vintage hand sewn quilted comforters...there may even be two perfectly baked and decorated cookies on the edge of the teacups' saucer.Of course, there will only be TWO cookies, not an entire fistful or sleeve as a normal person would actually have. The person who lives in this environment would never eat more than two cookies at a time unlike me. Slob that I am I would probably pound down 4-5 at the least. Lets not get into PMS, then we are talking an entire sleeve from the box. I am nearly certain though that this person never gets PMS and even manages to wear white pants during this time of the month while I am hunkered down in my giant elastic waist get up till the bloat subsides.
But that is neither here nor there (I've always wanted to say that). The real issue here is that I have decided that I am a slob and that yes, I can do better but I am going to stop beating myself up for my slobbery. I was very worried when my love broke up with me that I would never find another man who I could trust enough to come into my environment and to not judge me. My man never did, he loved me and my apartment was not something he criticized or thought less of me for. He actually found it charming because I am so together in other ways this is kind of surprising but it wasn't a deal breaker for him. My other qualities are just going to have to compensate for this fault.
So to all those messy girls out there, keep living your thrilling lives and forget about having a perfect kitchen/bathroom, living room. I'm not saying to be totally apathetic and give up, all I'm saying is to be kinder to yourselves and put this stuff in perspective.
That's all for now :)
No comments:
Post a Comment