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Thursday, January 27, 2011

The Pop-In

Today my friend Sandi came over to visit me and see my new place.

When she was on her way over, I looked around in horror, knowing it was entirely too late for me to do anything about what was about to happen.

These thoughts ran through my head:

I could tell her we were robbed, and the house was ransacked.

I could pretend like we just moved on Monday (only dang... she knows that's not true).

I could hide when she knocks.

I could throw on my bathrobe, mess up my hair, put some blush on my nose, and tell her she can't come in because I don't want to get her sick.

Shoot... too late! There she was at the door. Only, it was worse than I thought because she brought her husband with her. Thank goodness I know that these two people happen to be two of the least judgmental people I know.

So there I was, "showing off" my new home in all it's ever-loving-disaster glory.

Please know that I am not exaggerating. It was a disaster. Don't believe me? Okay. You forced me. I'll prove it to you:







That is just a small sampling.  Does that make you feel better about your house? It should.
{If it doesn't, then I'm thinking you should get to cleaning.}

Do you have a friend whose house is always in pristine condition?
You know... that girl whose home looks like it jumped off the pages of a magazine, even when you pop in?

That is not my house. So, if you need a friend whose house makes you feel better about the state of affairs in your house... come on over.

I haven't always been like this. Well, I was... then I wasn't... now I am again.

When I was little my room needed excavators to find the carpet. But then I grew up and got my own home and felt pride in keeping it in that "oh sure, come on over" state. Then I started my own business. Then I moved. For the last month my house has looked like a bomb went off, and I can't seem to get a grip on it.

Yet even in the midst of insanity, I find that I am still anal about funny things. Every morning I leave my curling iron and flat iron on my bathroom counter cooling. And every night {even though there is laundry all over my bedroom, three trash bags full of clothes that I haven't decided yet where to put, and trash spilling out of the can} I make sure to wrap up the cords and put my irons away while I sleep. Even though I will just bring them out first thing in the morning, and even though there is no one coming into my bathroom while I sleep to see them... even though... I am compelled to put them away.  Nevermind the fact that I have to leap across piles of crap to get to my bed... but my irons are in their rightful place!

Hopefully someday soon I will have order in my home once again, and not have to feel terror at the prospect of someone wanting to come upstairs.

Hopefully.

4 comments:

  1. Darling Emmy, You are not behind. Go to FlyLady.net and let her help you. Believe me it changed my life! It has lasted over ten years now. Your house WILL become much more peaceful. She has a great book called Sink Reflections. You can have my copy. I enjoy your blogs so much. You are in my prayers.
    love, Audrey Morgan 949 496 2970. amorg@cox.net

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  2. Haha!!! I am a lurker, but had to comment and say thanks. I am mortified when people drop by. But I totally do the same thing with the flat iron every day. LOL! Glad to know I'm not alone :D

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  3. I am mortified when people just drop by for the exact same reason!

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  4. Wait till the baby comes. Your house will be an even bigger mess, but on the bright side, you'll be too tired to care. :)

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