So, I'm sitting here and my house is still wrecked and my cousin is still coming and I have to ask myself, why? Well, my cousin is coming to pick up a bed, but the house is still a wreck. I got up early this morning, drank some coffee and cleaned some snake cages. Took some of the snakes out to play in the trees. Visited with my neighbor. Made a few phone calls.
I am sitting here quietly and trying to get in touch with how I really feel. Really. I don't want the relatives to see a woefully messy house-but it's not really for me-it's for Mom. I personally don't care. Really.
I LIVE here. That mess in the living room is correspondence and to-dos. It's a huge pile, and it daunts me. Would the world fall off its axis if I just opened the door, said hello, and LOOK at this pile of stuff I have to do! Maybe I really want someone to see my piles.
I do wish they were more organized-but I don't want them relegated to the snake room so I can keep a clean living room. I LIVE in my living room. The TV is there, the phone, the window overlooking my roses. WHY would I want to shut myself in the snake room so that my piles are hidden?