Believe it or not, once there was a time when I was meticulous and organized, perhaps a bit on the OCD side. Then, I had children. I learned that they do not come out sharing their mother’s need for cleanliness and order. I decided that, to preserve my sanity, I could let things go in favor of more time spent on the important things.
Somewhere along the way, I lost the middle ground, though. I am either a deplorable housekeeper or an obsessive one, and each comes with it’s level of stress.
Living with my mother is a different kind of stress, but it does take the load off a little in the realm of housework. Sure, we clash often about what work needs to be done and how, but at the end of the day I am comfortable in knowing that it isn’t all on my own shoulders.
The downside of all of this is that I’ve completely lost control over my surroundings. Now, not only are my children causing me to compromise my core instinct for order,, but my mother and our roommate (the homeowner who graciously permits is to reside under her roof) are able to tell me what to clean, when, and how.
Sometimes my anger issues which I mentioned in a previous post converge with my insecurities about a lack of control of my life, and I verbally explode. Sometimes I shout expletives and throw things. Sometimes, I internalize these frustrations and say horrible things to and about myself.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this post. I suppose it’s more of a confession booth than a commencement speech.
Futuristic–It’s like I can only deal with one thing at a time, but that fucks me over in the long run, because eventually I usually change my mind.