My hamper floweth over
The Keith Family News
Monday, March 31, 2008
Bad. Veree bad.
I found a note card that my son had written that phrase on this weekend. "Bad. Veree Bad". And I thought "Ain't that the truth?" It summed up my week.
Chad took the kids to visit his dad and grandma this weekend and I had twenty-four whole hours alone to do some spring cleaning. My initial plan was to hit the house hard until about 10:00 pm and then go have a few drinks with some friends.
But people? I. Was. On. A. Roll. I only slept for about 5 hours, and the rest of the time was spent in the trenches.
Not only did I scrub every surface in my house, I also "decrapified" a whole bunch. I watched part of this Oprah show last week about hoarding, and while on the surface I might not seem like a hoarder, the state of all the closets and drawers in my house hold dirty little secrets.
I threw away eight bags of lids that don't match, lidless containers, mismatched socks,holey t-shirts, broken hamster balls,kids art work (shhh) capless markers, broken crayons, etc.
I filled my husband's van with stuff to donate.
It. Felt. good. Clean, fresh, new.
This morning, however, the "veree bad" started all over again.
And guess who likes to show up at my doorstep ugly little head in times like these? That's right, my good ol' pal depression.
But I'm not opening the door. And I am screening my calls. I think I will write him a
Dear John letter. Because we are through.
And tomorrow? Just to let you know, tomorrow, I am expecting you to be Good. Veree Good.
Chad took the kids to visit his dad and grandma this weekend and I had twenty-four whole hours alone to do some spring cleaning. My initial plan was to hit the house hard until about 10:00 pm and then go have a few drinks with some friends.
But people? I. Was. On. A. Roll. I only slept for about 5 hours, and the rest of the time was spent in the trenches.
Not only did I scrub every surface in my house, I also "decrapified" a whole bunch. I watched part of this Oprah show last week about hoarding, and while on the surface I might not seem like a hoarder, the state of all the closets and drawers in my house hold dirty little secrets.
I threw away eight bags of lids that don't match, lidless containers, mismatched socks,holey t-shirts, broken hamster balls,kids art work (shhh) capless markers, broken crayons, etc.
I filled my husband's van with stuff to donate.
It. Felt. good. Clean, fresh, new.
This morning, however, the "veree bad" started all over again.
And guess who likes to show up at my doorstep ugly little head in times like these? That's right, my good ol' pal depression.
But I'm not opening the door. And I am screening my calls. I think I will write him a
Dear John letter. Because we are through.
And tomorrow? Just to let you know, tomorrow, I am expecting you to be Good. Veree Good.
Keithclan, 4:19 PM
1 Comments:
Good for you!
Isn't it strange how it comes a knockin' right after you've accomplished so much? What is that all about anyway?
You hang in there:) - I have to triple bag the extra artwork and put it in the very bottom of the outside trash can so my kids don't find out!
Isn't it strange how it comes a knockin' right after you've accomplished so much? What is that all about anyway?
You hang in there:) - I have to triple bag the extra artwork and put it in the very bottom of the outside trash can so my kids don't find out!
