I am Blissfully Domestic…

….I am delusional. I’m really an enigma wrapped in a mystery or, as my husband says, G-d’s idea of a joke. My domestic life is a study in contradictions: my clothes are organized according to color (stripes and patterns have their own category), sleeve length and collar style; shoes are organized according to color, style and heel height; and my delicates are organized according to purpose, color and style.

The kitchen is its own organizational masterpiece. Spices are organized according to spice type and size. Vegetables are alphabetized with all the labels facing the same direction. I will stop before I further traumatize you. But suffice it to say, while my things are hyper-organized, my life is not.

I’ve always been one of those people who sort of floats through life. The only real schedule that I keep is running my children to and from practice, friends’ homes, etc. The rest of the time, I just let things happen. This means that while I may do a lot, a lot really doesn’t get done. When I worked outside of the home, I could blame the unfinished chores on the stress of a long hard day at the library. Now that I’m a SAHM who works from home, I really don’t have an excuse.

I need a schedule. Sob. Jenny swears it works for her, so I’m gonna give it a try. Hopefully, my house will be much neater, the laundry piles will be smaller and the dust bunnies will stop multiplying. If not, domestic bliss is overrated, right?

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