Disorganizing

Today, Teddy chewed the back off my good hand cream. Buddy gave me a tinsel-puke present. Seth jumped into the linen closet and rubbed his big self all over my towels. There's just something wrong when I think of the cat sitting on the nice hand towels that I use to dry my face. The nice hand towels aren't as nice any more because of the dirt left on the boys fingers whenever they wash their hands. I know I should have been a good wife and made my house look like Martha Stewart lived here, but I didn't manage it.

Tomorrow, my new friend Susie is supposed to come over to learn about a Cub Scout administration program. I read that in the Netherlands, people don't wait to invite their friends over until after they've cleaned. Boy, I want to move there.

For the last month, Susie and I have been walking our dogs together and she's been saying how awful her house is because they are renovating. It made me hopeful that I'm not the only one with a messy house around here. I thought I might be able to invite her over without worrying.

There's a real problem in this area with homes that look too nice to actually live in. Ours just doesn't fall into that category. One of my friends calls cleaning her house her hobby. Oh man. I live in the wrong neighborhood.

I'd like to have an organized house, but I don't. I set other priorities, like reading, writing, quilting. Shoot, straightening up is just about at the bottom of my list of fun things to do.

I've also gotten to the end of my closet space and don't know what to do with half of Mike and Nick's stuff that's lying around. I mean, I don't even know what some of this stuff is, let alone where it belongs. I've made mistakes like throwing away the main screw to the tripod when I do get to organizing. I try to manage my own things yet I always have a stack or two of books on the table next to the couch. I have two or three projects out on my quilting table. Cub Scout things are in a pile by the computer where I use them most.

My house feels like a functioning mess, but it is a mess. My best friends know me and love me anyway. Some others, like the cleaning hobbyist, aren't invited over unless I've just had my carpets cleaned. With new friends, I'm cautious. In any other region of the country, I'd worry less, but some of these folks live in $1M homes and have house cleaners and landscapers. I can't compete with that!

I don't want to. Well, I try to tell myself I don't want to, but I do have residual guilt from my neatnick mom. When I grew up, my family was never allowed to use our living room. My mother would vacuum your hair if you were in the way when she was coming through. In the face of that, some kids would comply and some would revolt. I revolted. I just wish I hadn't revolted quite so well.

So Susie is supposed to come over tomorrow and I've never seen her house, but Mike was just there for a meeting last week and said it was spotless. Shoot! I'm going to have to text Susie in the morning and tell her I'm still down with my cold.

See, I could have skipped this and gotten a fair amount done, yet I didn't. And it is true I haven't caught up with things since I slept a lot today, trying to get better. So: I'm not feeling very well yet, Susie. Can we postpone until January?

Maybe I can get my carpets cleaned in January. I always get organized when I get my carpets cleaned. Or maybe not.

Thank you for listening, jb