Today is the first day of Fall. It is supposed to be 79 degrees here, which is pretty wackadoo. School has been in session for about 3 weeks, and we have a sort of rhythm going, “sort of” being the key phrase.
Sadly, we were not very productive in the purging this summer. There was one very satisfying dump run and pressure-washing of the patio. But no big garage clean out. There are still piles on my sewing desk, in the bedroom, in the closet, in the kitchen. It is becoming hard to deal with, even more so because I do actually make a dent it sometimes, but it never sticks. Yes, we have a small house and not much room to put stuff, but I’m not kidding myself. We could have a 3,000 SF house and it’d still be crammed. So clearly the problem is the amount of stuff. Only one thing for it. Out it goes. It has to for my own mental health, and let’s be clear, I am by no means a neat freak so if it bothers ME, you know it’s bad.
The stuff is now getting in the way of fun things – I can’t sew obviously, and last week only half of the couch could be sat upon. The other half was covered in laundry. I did just get a killer new knitting bag, a Tom Bihn Swift. Yes, a new item, but it will let me get my knitting organized, so shut it, you haters. That is incentive to clearing the knitting mess.
And I finally drug out the kitchen cabinet doors that we took off FOUR years ago, primed them, and hope to paint them tonight. Granted, they’re still 50 years old so they won’t look brand new, but a lot better than what’s on them now. While I’m at it, I should empty the cabinets and repaint the interior – we just did a quick coat of latex when we moved in and it’s not wearing so well.
But let’s get to the nitty gritty, lay it all out there. It’s not just my physical surroundings that are making me nuts. I am 44 and the hormones are starting to go a little askew. Crazy things happening physically, but the worst is the mental. I am normally a pretty easy-going gal, but the last few weeks, not so much. I hate feeling like I could snap at any minute over nothing. I want my old self back. If this is the new me, I may have to move to a cabin in Montana miles from nowhere before I hurt someone.
But since the shoe and yarn and fabric buying options are limited there, I’ll stick it out here a while longer, hoping my new cabinets and cleaned-out house will take the edge off. As well as the IV bag of wine that I will soon have to hook up on a continuous drip.
And if I snap at you, just nod and smile.