Second stack to the left about a third of the way down

Second stack to the left about a third of the way down

I live in clutter and I can’t seem to keep my place clean to save my life.  I don’t have small children or anyone else most the time to pick up after.  Nope, it’s just me.  I know I keep house like my mother.  She calls me upon occasion to help her clean.  I look at her mess, stack of papers on the table and too many collectibles, and feel like running out of the house screaming!  Now imagine how I must feel in my own place.

My dad was a pack rat.  He taught me in the mid-80’s to keep “important” paperwork for 7 years, just in case of an audit.  I used to keep EVERYTHING!  Utility bills, bank statements, pay stubs and credit card statements.  I didn’t however keep receipts.  Could you imagine?

Never enough space

While I was married, we lived in a 4 bedroom house with a 2 car garage and a loft.  After we separated I lived in a bedroom.  When the divorce was filed, I moved to a 2 bedroom apartment and a storage unit.  The second bedroom wasn’t for storage, it held my girls’ beds.  I kept the apartment while unemployed and finally ran out of money as I was hired on at my current job.  I packed up everything I owned, moved it into a storage unit and surfed couches of generous friends for a number of months.  3 months later I moved into my present apartment.  It has 1 bedroom and the dining room serves as my children’s bedroom.  I don’t have a storage unit and am slowly building a major wall unit in my bedroom.  It took me months to unpack the boxes and either find new homes for things, or find new and creative ways to store the items.  One upside is that this apartment has 4 times the amount of kitchen cabinets that the last place had.

Over the past year or so I’ve parred down a bit or maybe I learned to pack better.  I’m not sure which.  I’ve gotten rid of a lot of things.  I still have a stack of old bills. Goodwill is my friend!  In light of my debt I’ve tried to Craigslist a number of things but no one bites.  Maybe I’m doing something wrong?

Housecleaning is not my strong suit

I can’t seem to keep up my dishes and I wait forever to clean the bad food out of my refrigerator.  When my bathtub turns some other color than white I clean it.  My toilet could use more care than it gets.  I don’t make my bed, I don’t put my clothes away.   Folding clothes is low on my list of of chores.  My vacuum cleaner is 22 years old so I hardly vacuum.  It doesn’t do much therefore I don’t bother much.  I don’t pick up after myself and yet I expect my children to do better than me.

On the flip side, my house isn’t gross.  I’m not the reclusive cat lady with stacks of newspapers leaving only a small path from place to place.  My clothes are clean, they just lay in piles on my bed, on top of the dryer or in a basket.  I know where my keys are every morning when I go to leave the house.  In short, I don’t live in a pigsty.

That’s enough for now, more next week.


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