Time to Clean Up...Again...

I had a lovely day of lazing around, and this time, Bill was gone long enough for me to miss him! I was actually glad to see him and Ray show up for venison dinner last night. Because it stays light out well towards 9 pm, we got started on our list of projects afterwards.

We went looking for the "Glue Box" down in the basement together. We know we have a bottle of Gorilla Glue, perfect for Bill's latest home improvement project. When Mom was here, she put all the glues in a box. So where is that box? We never did find it.

Then Ray asked if he could borrow Bill's pipe cutter. "I have a pipe cutter?" asked Bill.
"Yeah, I saw it down in the pile by the dryer," said Ray. "Sure," said Bill, "if you can find it, you can borrow it."

I know that pile. It's right next to the pile of tools brought back from my dad's garage, which is next to the pile of paper trash waiting to go to the dump--which is next to the towering pile of boxes waiting to be broken down and flattened for future use, and the pile of paper used for packing eBay boxes. Then there's the pile of Christmas stuff boxes, next to the pile of fabric and sewing and crafts boxes, and the pile of I-don't-know-what's-in-those-boxes, left over from the move and waiting for a permanent home.

This is our disorganized life. We are terrible people.

I absolutely hate the clutter. I abhor not being able to find what I'm looking for. In my perfect world, I would have a place for everything, and everything would magically return to its appointed place after being used. Instead of ending up on the dining room table. Or the floor.

In my perfect world, we would own just one hammer--not the six we actually own, having gone out in frustration and bought another, because we couldn't find one. Or the caulking guns. Everytime I need to caulk something, the caulking guns go missing. All 13 of them, each purchased in the throes of need-to-caulk-now-and-can't-find-the-gun.

Of course, when I'm looking for, say, a set of hex keys, all I find are multiple caulking guns. No hex keys, but plenty of hammers.

I buy organizing bins and put tools and household stuff in them. For a few months, life is good, objects are able to be accessed, and I am religious about putting things back. Then, my natural laziness reasserts itself and things start to go missing. An organized box full of all the glues gets moved and I forget where I moved it to. Things get piled onto things and everything sifts downward, never to be seen again.

Today, I vow to spend some quality time down there, swamping out the debris and at least clearing a path through the detritus.

And maybe the Glue Box will magically appear, if I dig and re-shuffle enough. It's worth a shot.