Bad news: I can't be in/on my office comfy couch! It's very distressing. Also, I'm hungry! On the plus side, it will smell all nice and clean down there once she's finished.
During the hiding out, I am forced to manage all of my built up paper/work stuff, which isn't actually the worst thing I guess. How does it all build up so quickly? I've been mentally planning a big organization of all of things disorganized around here. I've been mentally planning that particular thing for approximately three years or so, but who's counting? I have a pretty good "organizing" Pinboard going right about now. I really think I'm going to get to it this time.
In proving my theory that I am ready to actually do the organizing, I give you exhibit A. Well, I'm not posting a picture, but I'll tell you exhibit A. I reorganized my (side of the) closet! It looks and feels pretty great, I have to say. It's been driving me crazy forever because I used to be a
Incidentally, I think "Hell in a hand basket," is such a funny term. Because first of all, what exactly is a hand basket? A basket that you carry in your hand, I imagine, all the way to Hell. But aren't ALL of them hand baskets then? And who came up with it anyway? And are we supposed to capitalize Hell? We all know I have trouble with capitalization. I never actually think about using that term til the appropriate moment is gone. That's the story of my life.
Anyway, The Great Master Closet Makeover, as I like to refer to it, happened a few days ago, and I'm really happy with it, it makes me say ahhh whenever I walk in there. Basically, I took out every last thing for the viewing on the bed. Which was where I decided which pile it should go in: the Keep, Donate or Toss pile, if you will.
I seriously ended up with so many donate bags... literally garbage bags full of stuff to donate. That's embarrassing. No wonder it was so messy in there! Now it's a lot less cluttered, everything is in it's place, and I feel pretty accomplished. Next is Alex's side, and that'll be a nightmare. He's worse than me, in the hoarding department. I can't even throw away a ripped pair of his underwear without him literally saving it from the garbage. They might be his lucky underwear! Jeez. He's so superstitious. He really thinks his underwear is lucky. He thinks if he wears stupid undies, I will get mad at him at some point that day. It's the same with his washcloths (weird, I know).
Whenever I take one of his washcloths and WASH IT, he stamps around like a baby saying, "I know you're going to be mad at me now! That was my lucky washcloth!"
And I'm all, "But hon, it's gross and germy and you're washing yourself with gross germs!"
And he's all, "But I wasn't ready for you to wash it!"
And I'm all, "OK, self fulfilling prophecy because you're being a child and now I'm starting to feel a little mad at you."
And he's all, "A-HA! I KNEW IT!"
Does anyone else have a fool who is really superstitious about certain items of clothing, or washcloths??
So I guess I should go show my face for a minute or something. I really would like some food, and I suppose I have to pay the cleaning lady at some point. You can come back whenever, I'll be here.