Another example of me opening up and exposing who I am. Steps towards being more comfortable with myself and writing about it.
Extra paper, gift cards, coupons, things the puppy has “brought to me”, blank envelopes to send things out in, bills, pencil sharpeners, container with extra change in it, pencils and pens, telephone, random things people have tossed on it and anything the girls have made or want me to see, daily mail, cards that I made at the past card-making clinic, and other completely random items. These are just some of the things that clutter my desk and its cubby holes. I attempt to clean it up completely every now and then, but it never works. It stays clean for maybe two days and then it is back to clutter city.
Andy gets the mail on the way into the house each day and drops it on my desk for me to go through. During the school year the girls put all their papers there for me to sort through. During the summer the girls leave pictures, notes, and other odds and ends instead. Outgoing things. Ingoing things. My desk is command central. It is also the first thing you see upon entering our home. Not exactly impressive.
However, I can’t stay on top of keeping it clean. It is my Mount Kilimanjaro. I try but never seem to get anywhere. I know that I must keep trying, but it is seriously exhausting.
I’ve never been a super housekeeper. I try to keep the main floor somewhat presentable. This is hard because I have 2 young children whose entire purpose seems to be to dash my hopes of having a clean house.
The basement is coming along. I’m starting to get a hand hold on it. The upstairs however….my bedroom, in particular, feels like a dumping zone. It is the area that I never get to. My bedroom has become my arch nemesis. I want to keep the lights out when I enter the room because it is just a reminder that I am failing at being a good “housewife”.
I keep trying though. And I may just die trying.