That happened today. [i.e. I was moved to tears by my own clutter... and the sense that it's not getting any better and the fear that it won't.] Not the first time. Not the last, probably, but trying to do something about it.
I got a burst of energy from an unlikely source: kicked around on the internet until I was running late for the exercise class I'd agreed to start today -- and thought, "f#%* that class; I need to clean this house!"
Apparently if I'm behind in enough areas, I can procrastinate one (or more) to tackle another.
Seized the moment to strip the sheets; load the washer; hang some shirts; and take 2 cans of paint from the deck to the basement.
Those 2 cans of paint have been sitting on our deck for about 2 months.
And to think I've been telling myself that I need a POOL because we didn't use our backyard this summer. Face the reality sister (yes, I just addressed my self as a sister, which is a sibling that I don't have, but could really use... anyway, moving on... right... where was I? ...the reality... oh, yeah). The reality is that I didn't use our backyard all summer because I couldn't stand to be out there reminded of my complete inability to put away the crap on my deck, let alone pull the weeds out of the ground. The many, many weeds.
Anyway, I'm rambling on.
[Yes, but it's interesting how writing for a few minutes can bring to light something obvious that I've overlooked for months. I really should re-read King Lear, least-enjoyed literature of my high school education.]The point of this post was to track my accomplishments today.
Here's the thing... It might be motivating for me to track my accomplishments. I'm embarrassed by this, but right now I'll try anything to help get me out of this slump. So here goes, starting with what I already did...
- Stripped the sheets (our bed)
- Loaded the washer
- Hung two shirts -- threw the rest back into the laundry because they're wrinkly
- Took 2 cans of paint from the deck to the basement
- Threw out an old duvet cover
- Vented to husband re (self-inflicted) chaos and inability to cope with said chaos. Husband vented back, angrily, about his inability to cope with my venting at him. He appeared to be on the verge of a heart attack.
- Called my psychiatrist's office, intending to vent at her for a change. She, of course, does not answer her own phone. Made an appointment for tomorrow morning. WROTE IT DOWN(!).
- Asked husband to PLEASE stop dropping whatever he brings into our home right at the entryway. Clutter at the entryway is making me fucking crazy, filling me with shame, and prompts me to close the curtains. The shady shame makes me feel worse.
- Located psychologist's appointment card and wrote it on my calendar too (the day after tomorrow).
- Looked up and wrote down 4 other appointments.