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A Bad Day ...
Jan. 30th, 2007 01:42 pmSometimes, I look around my house, and the clutter is overwhelming. I mean, there is shit everywhere. Every way I turn, there it is -- the flotsam and jetsam of life. Things we treasured enough to bring into our house. Things we loved and no longer need, but are too sentimental to throw away. Things we still love, and can never part with. New things. Just ... things, things, things.
I want to clean it all up, you know? I want to rip the house apart and just get rid of all this fucking clutter. Sometimes, I think ... If I did that ... if I managed to eradicate all this crap that is laying around ... finally, finally, I would be able to think again. It's like the clutter in my house has infected my brain, too. As if my head is full of garbage that I once loved, but that doesn't matter any more. And, here I am, unable to get rid of any of it. Unable to banish any of it out of sight.
It makes me feel hopeless and fucking useless. I mean, what good am I if I can't even manage to declutter one house? I know I'm married to a master clutterer, but, still. I feel as if I should be able to do something with this place, as if I should be able to have at least one room for myself. One room that is neat and put away and clutter-free. The thing is, there's this voice in the back of my mind. It tells me I shouldn't bother. I can work for weeks, using all my spare time to declutter and organize our house. I can slave away and get everything put away, everything neat and clean, everything where it should belong. But, my hubby will come home and undo in less than ten minutes what it has taken me an entire day to accomplish. Talk about learning your life has no meaning.
So, I have decided there is only one option for me. Only one solution to the dilemma of my life. I will have to run away from home. I will have to get in the car and just drive -- no direction, no plan, no thought other than just "drive". I will have to keep going until I find a likely, out-of-the-way spot ... and, then, I will stop. And, I will start over from scratch. The clutter will be gone. No one will be nagging at me to do shit for them. No one will be criticizing me. There will just be me. And no clutter. And peace.
It seems like a great plan, until I realize I would have to take my daughter. There is no way I could leave her behind. And, of course, if she was going, the dog would insist on accompanying me, too. There's no way he can let his "little sister" have a fun adventure while he is left out. And, then, there is the cat. She is my constant shadow, so I know I would not be able to get away without her noticing. And, if everyone else is going, I'm confident my hubby would want to come, too. Which means my car is full before I ever even start out. *sigh*
Maybe I can just learn to make peace with the clutter. Is that even possible? *ponders*
I want to clean it all up, you know? I want to rip the house apart and just get rid of all this fucking clutter. Sometimes, I think ... If I did that ... if I managed to eradicate all this crap that is laying around ... finally, finally, I would be able to think again. It's like the clutter in my house has infected my brain, too. As if my head is full of garbage that I once loved, but that doesn't matter any more. And, here I am, unable to get rid of any of it. Unable to banish any of it out of sight.
It makes me feel hopeless and fucking useless. I mean, what good am I if I can't even manage to declutter one house? I know I'm married to a master clutterer, but, still. I feel as if I should be able to do something with this place, as if I should be able to have at least one room for myself. One room that is neat and put away and clutter-free. The thing is, there's this voice in the back of my mind. It tells me I shouldn't bother. I can work for weeks, using all my spare time to declutter and organize our house. I can slave away and get everything put away, everything neat and clean, everything where it should belong. But, my hubby will come home and undo in less than ten minutes what it has taken me an entire day to accomplish. Talk about learning your life has no meaning.
So, I have decided there is only one option for me. Only one solution to the dilemma of my life. I will have to run away from home. I will have to get in the car and just drive -- no direction, no plan, no thought other than just "drive". I will have to keep going until I find a likely, out-of-the-way spot ... and, then, I will stop. And, I will start over from scratch. The clutter will be gone. No one will be nagging at me to do shit for them. No one will be criticizing me. There will just be me. And no clutter. And peace.
It seems like a great plan, until I realize I would have to take my daughter. There is no way I could leave her behind. And, of course, if she was going, the dog would insist on accompanying me, too. There's no way he can let his "little sister" have a fun adventure while he is left out. And, then, there is the cat. She is my constant shadow, so I know I would not be able to get away without her noticing. And, if everyone else is going, I'm confident my hubby would want to come, too. Which means my car is full before I ever even start out. *sigh*
Maybe I can just learn to make peace with the clutter. Is that even possible? *ponders*