Considering its pre-blog state, the master bedroom is not that bad.
Still, though, my heart would palpitate if someone other than the five of us saw it. My sense of hearing took on super-hero qualities every time one of the kids at last night’s Superbowl party walked past its door. If I had heard a doorknob moving, I would have knocked someone over to get there lightning fast.
One of my goals for the year is to solve the master bedroom mystery.
I’m not an idiot. I know that it gets to disaster status because I don’t consistently pick up clutter. I don’t hang up my clothes. I put every random thing that doesn’t have a home on top of my dresser, and my nightly routine includes throwing my current read onto the floor before turning off my lamp.
I get it.
But, head knowledge doesn’t do me much good. I’ve accepted that with the way my brain works, I have to put changes into practice before I can start to truly understand them.
I know that clothes are a big part of my problem. I’ve worked to decrease my children’s clothing, but I’ve managed to skillfully avoid messing with my own stash. So, I’m focusing on clothing as I begin this investigation.
First, there’s the big problem of the all-too-convenient End of the Bed. It’s just so perfect for stashing my good intentions.
- Clothes that were tried on, but didn’t ultimately win the Battle of the Outfits for that particular day.
- Clothes that were worn once, often just for a few hours, and so they didn’t qualify as Dirty Clothes.
- Clothes that were dumped on the bed to be folded on Laundry Day, but then got sucked into the abyss created by the previous two types of clothes.
- Dirty clothes. Because if I let myself pile up clean clothes, something dirty always slips in with them.
So, since today is Laundry Day anyway, I decided to tackle that pile.
I get paralyzed doing this sometimes, because of the whole, “Is this clean or dirty?” dilemma. This may gross someone out, but I decided to err on the side of calling things clean. My rationale was that I probably put it there, originally, because I considered it clean. (Surely I would have put it in the dirty clothes otherwise, right?) And part of the endless cycle is continuously putting these probably-clean-but-just-in-case-they’re-not clothes into the laundry again, causing more overwhelm-ment (not a word, but totally a thing).
The pile happens because I have good intentions.
“I don’t want to launder things that could be worn again . . . that would be wasteful.”
“I may not have decided to wear this today, but I’m not going to just throw it on the floor, that would be ridiculous.” (Dirty clothes go on the floor, duh.)
“I’m going to wear this tomorrow, so I’ll go ahead and balance it on top of the pile . . . isn’t the weather always the same two days in a row?”
But my good intentions have bad results. I’m un-scientifically guessing that out of every 10 times I throw something on there with a good intention, 9.8 times I forget what that good intention was, and the item becomes part of an ambiguous pile.
I have to start being intentional with my clothing. Clothes that don’t make the cut for the day need to go back in the closet. Clothes that can be worn again need to . . . . go back in the closet!
No more mindless stripping. (Sorry, honey.)
I’m linking this up to Orgjunkie.com’s 52 Weeks of Organizing. It wasn’t a week of huge progress, but just having that spot cleared (and maintained) makes an incredible difference in the master bedroom.