I don’t feel like writing a post tomorrow. Yes, I know that tomorrow hasn’t happened yet, but I already feel the donwannas coming on. And they’re coming on strong.
I always go into a funk when it’s time for school to start, and going to Meet the Teacher Night tonight made it all too real.
So, tomorrow . . . I want to enjoy my kids. I don’t want to sit in front of a screen.
I thought about not writing, but then I remembered that I’ve been thinking about participating in Friday Fails over at My Blessed Life.
I could write about how I’ve failed to make the bed for (at least) a few weeks.
I could write about how I failed to think through the fact that the meat thermometer that was inside the chicken wouldn’t necessarily be the same temperature as its cord that was perfectly cool because it was outside the oven. AND I TOUCHED THE 350 DEGREE metal part with my bare fingers. (Instantly burning them, requiring me to spend the next hour with my hand in a cup of ice water.)
But no, I’ve got one that’s better than those. I’m going to show you something. Something horrible. Something I hope to change . . . soon. Something I never thought I’d let get this bad . . . again.
It started with allowing myself to pull one of my old tricks, and then spiraled into what you see here.
Are you ready?
There it is. My fail that took way more than one Friday’s worth of Selective-Vision to happen.
This blog is my real journey. And I am a real slob. Real slobs don’t change overnight. It’s hard to accept, but this post/picture is my reminder to myself that I may struggle for my entire life with this slob-problem.
But the difference between now and my pre-blog mindset is that I know it can be cleaned up . . . this doesn’t have to be my normal. It may look like this when life gets crazy, when things are out of routine, but it is possible to live the majority of life in a home of order.
I know that letting it get this bad, failing in this way is not the end of my journey. It is part of the journey.