My home is a complete disaster.
I’m not kidding.
Every room needs some major cleaning and serious decorating (and some rooms need some serious repair).
And I just don’t fucking care.
Depression is awesome, isn’t it?
I can’t seem to get a handle on anything, so I stopped trying at all. Actually, that’s not true, but it’s what it feels like. I still try, just not as often, nor as hard and then I just freak out, flip out and go hide somewhere.
This pattern is getting on my nerves, but I can’t seem to shake myself out of it either.
I’ve re-created my Control Journal…AGAIN. My sink is not shiny (in fact, I think there’s like 10 dirty dishes in there). I do get dressed to the shoes, every day, but I don’t do my hair or make up. I mean, I BRUSH my hair, but that’s as far as I can go right now.
I had a handle on my kitchen until last night. Took TWO drawers apart to try to organize them and everything went to shit. I’ve got utensils all over my counters and stove top; drawer dividers all willy nilly and crumbs. WHY the hell did I think I could move on to something that complicated???
I can’t even remember to call the freakin’ roofing company to fix my damn roof, what made me think I could actually take my kitchen a step further and ORGANIZE?!
Because I forgot the whole concept of “Baby Steps”.
So, I’m going grab my fat, broken-winged ass up off the floor AGAIN and flutter/sputter with FlyLady for Week 3. Let’s see if I can fix my flubs.
And so you can see my stupidity in action, here is my kitchen AFTER I completely fucked it up. In less than 20 minutes, no lie.
Seriously, before I decided to “organize my drawers”, the only thing that needed to be done in my kitchen was to sweep and mop the floor.
I should NOT be allowed to have “A Plan”.