Headache last night. Couldn't sleep and couldn't find the bottle of Aleve that I just KNEW was hiding somewhere in the kitchen. Ended up on the sofa watching an episode of the new A&E series "Hoarders" and it scared the hell out of me.
Last night's episode featured a family in danger of losing their children to social services because of their hoarding behavior and a woman who hoarded so much food that her landlord was threatening to evict her. The rotting pumpkin in the living room, I think, was what did it for me.
See, I'm not a neat person by nature. And I have a lot of stuff. I'm not especially attached to most of this stuff, except for my books and my growing yarn stash. I have a lot of other crap, especially clothes, that I just can't seem to be bothered to sort through and send to the proper donation locations. So a show like this looks to me like an edge I could easily topple over.
I'd like to think that I'd draw the line at a rotting pumpkin in the living room, but I also know there's yogurt in my fridge that's been there since June.
Correction, WAS yogurt.
Because this morning I got up, grabbed a trash bag and started pulling stuff out of the fridge willy-nilly.
Earlier this summer my mom sent a crew of contractors she knows to replace my kitchen cabinets. I felt guilty about this, because I'm a grown ass woman and can, in time, replace my own kitchen cabinets. I got over the guilt because, a) it's pointless to argue with my mother once she decides something needs to be done and b) it's unlikely that I'll ever ask her to pay for a wedding.
So anyway, reassembling the kitchen after the work was done has been a lengthy process because I am a lazy grown-ass woman. I'd gotten to everything except the countertop, which was cluttered with detritus that included a box of magic eraser which has never been opened, garden seeds that never got planted, a wine opening gadget that scared me, a pill cutter, a cat collar... well, you get the idea.
After I finished with the fridge, I got to work on the countertop. And tomorrow, my office. Next day, maybe, my bedroom. The result:
I do NOT want to end up on a reality show on A&E unless I'm asked to do a guest appearance on "Gene Simmons Family Jewels."
Better still, I found the bottle of Aleve.
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