This is what the dining room has looked like for the last 22 days:
Where, you might ask, have you been eating meals? I’m not telling.
On December 26, I had grand hopes. The house was clean, and I took down the tree with excitement. “I’ll get it all put away now before it gets overwhelming,” I told myself. I laid it out on the table so that I could organize and wrap each piece before putting them all into boxes.
That was 22 days ago. I’ve walked by the table 100s of times (we have a tiny house), and I’ve managed to get frustrated, angry, and depressed by the clutter. Why haven’t I put it away?
Good question. It stems from a mix of apathy, laziness, fatigue, and general overwhelm with my schedule. Most often, I am encouraged to clean my house because people are coming over. This reality is horrible, and awful, and I always beat myself up about it. Aren’t we good enough to have a clean house?
Well, yeah, but it just doesn’t quite work that way right now. Today was no exception. Chris was having guys over tonight, and they needed the table. So yesterday, he asked me nicely if he could help me put it all away or if he should cancel. Because my day was already packed yesterday, I told him I would do it by myself today.
It took me 20 whole minutes. I have been putting off something for 3 weeks and kicking myself because of it- all because I didn’t want to take 20 minutes to pack it up!!! Here’s how easy it all was:
And how great the room looks now:
Ugh. Lesson learned. I’m going to be more diligent to just make a dent on stuff each day instead of letting it pile up. Here’s to those grand hopes.