Let me add that to my list.

One of the (many) things that drive me insane about myself is how I can keep the work version of myself so neat and tidy and organized and prepared, but I cannot transfer those traits to the home version of myself. Granted, I do manage to get away with just enough to make it through the daily rigamarole of our routines. But just enough just isn't enough, sometimes. I feel like our household is in a constant state of disarray - one project piled on top of another project buried underneath four more projects. I know some may argue that when you have little kids, those projects have to take a backseat. But I don't want them to take a backseat. I want to put them in front of the car, and run them over, give them a proper burial and never have to look at them or think about them again. If they try to get in my backseat, they run the risk of becoming buried under baby dolls, mismatched mittens from two winters ago and baggies of half-eaten cereal.

Let me give you an example.

One day a couple of weeks ago - I was feeling ambitious. I wanted to move the computer desk from our bedroom into our living room. So I did. The problem is that in order to do so - I had to unearth the desk from beneath gobs of unused computer-related paraphernalia, which I placed on the floor of our bedroom. And there it remained. And still remains to this day. Each morning I stub my toe on a discarded keyboard. But do I bother to move it? I think we all know the answer to that. (I don't know where to move it TO- which, in my mind, justifies leaving it exactly where it is.) I mentioned to Patrick how I'd like this stuff moved, with the secret hopes that I would wake up one day, and it would magically... be gone. Poof. No involvement required on my part. Whatsoever. And that is precisely what gets me in these predicaments in the first place. I want to come up with the idea, be involved in the fun part of the idea, and for someone else to clean up the mess behind me. Wherein, someone else = husband. But judging from the fact that there are still USB cords and broken printers blocking my path, I'm guessing he didn't get the hint.

Back to my story.

So having been so clever as to move the computer desk from the bedroom to the living room, this now opened up some space in our bedroom. So I decided to rearrange. Which then leads to another project of organizing the shelf I moved from the living room to the bedroom. And finding new window treatments. And getting around to buying more storage for Patrick's clothes. (And maybe someday we should act like grownups and invest in an actual bedroom set. And get rid of the brown/green/tan shag carpeting.) And organizing and moving the clutter from the kitchen counter to the newly-accessible desk. And finally getting around to downloading pictures from our camera. Oh - and I haven't mentioned the bag(s) of clothes still on our sunporch which I need to take to the consignment store. And don't get me started on the sunporch - that's a monster all its own. But I really should clean the vehicles, first (see above reference to baby dolls and stale cereal.) I could go on. And on. I have the lists to prove it.

Which reminds me - I found a bunch of lists when I was decluttering the kitchen counter. So now I have to go through those lists and make new lists. And perhaps a master list so I can keep track of my lists. Is it wrong to write "organize lists" on my to-do list? *sigh*

But, alas. There aren't enough hours in the day. And the hours there are in the day need to be dedicated to, oh - eating. And sleeping. And laundry. And enjoying the last remnants of warm weather the fall has to offer. So most of these projects will remain untouched, floating from unfinished list to unfinished list. And I haven't even begun to regale you with the tales of The Little Bathroom Sink That Couldn't, There's a Hole In My Kitchen Ceiling, and The Rooms That Didn't Paint Themselves.