So my life is a disaster. I know, I know--I complain a lot, particularly about the mess that is my home. But this time, I really mean it.
The level of disorganization has sunk to a new low. Every room in this house has a sliding pile of papers, a jumble of random toys, or a pile of dirty, smelly, boy socks. It's disheartening, to say the least.
Recently, I bought a book on organization. Because that's all I really need. A book.
When I uncovered it a few days ago from a pile of other unread books (which are, incidentally, each their own solution to every problem I've ever had), I had an inkling of motivation.
The book's introduction was great--stirring, motivating, energizing. I can clean. I can purge. I can organize.
Or, at least, I can get on the internet and browse closet organization systems.
Let me tell you, the euphoria's already fading. Maybe I'll just torch the place and start over.
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