The Flip Side

So it's that time again. Time to update the old blog. So many things to write vent about. But not quite sure what to choose first.

Maybe I could delight you for ten minutes with my woe-is-me attitude. Or maybe you'd like to read more about my financial difficulties, my own personal economic decline, my "project skinny", if you will. Maybe I'll whine a little more about how there just aren't enough hours in the day to accomplish all of my tasks, lists, goals, chores, to-do's, etc.

Yeah. I don't quite understand where I went wrong. I don't know what need wasn't met when I was a kid growing up, or why I just can't be happy - content with how things are.

Now this discontentedness applies to just about everything. From simple things like how my living room or bedroom are arranged to the current shower curtain that is hanging in my bathroom. (And, I'm sure you've noticed how many times I've changed my blog around.) I'm not a psychologist, so I really can't delve into the nitty-gritty of why I do this. But wouldn't that be a fascinating topic.

I've always been this way. Once I reached an age where I found that I could place things in my room where I wanted them, I suppose I felt a sense of being an adult. But on the flip side, figured that by re-arranging my room, organizing my closet by color, changing up my posters, I felt a sense of renewal with every change.

I still do. I feel like I'm starting over. Like I've set a goal and not only met it, but conquered it. Squashed it. Killed it! And that victorious feeling will last for several days - or until the newly arranged bedroom gets messed up. Then it's kind of like major downer!

You know, there's cleaning the bathroom, and then there's cleaning the bathroom. Which, when I've taken the time to clean the bathroom, it feels awesome. I feel like I've walked into a nice hotel bathroom, complete with fresh, fluffy towels, shiny, sparkly clean mirror and q-tip jar. The cotton balls have been replenished and the toothbrush cup has been restored to it's original brushed silver finish. The shower walls shine and the shower curtain no longer needs to be pulled over a certain way because you've taken the time to duct-tape up the holes so it hangs evenly again.

And then - What the @%^#^^& is that? Why, of course, it's the (like a bad movie) predictable blob of toothpaste! And the stubble in the sink, and the dribble running down the mirror, and the toilet paper has been torn off not on the perforation, and the wet towel has been left on the floor and the boxers are in the corner....

At this point I begin seeing red, and the usual door-slamming ritual ensues (amongst other - yes, I'll admit - childish tantrum fillers.

Then, there it goes. That awesome feeling of renewal and accomplishment has flown out the window and here we are again. Back in the house that's seemingly falling apart at the seems. It's not really. It's just that feeling, you know, of back at square one, walking through the labyrinth in every room, the piles of homework, bills, dirty dishes...

Well, maybe if I just rearrange my office I'll feel better. You think?

Wish me luck!