I’ve often exercised my brain cells thinking about my cupboards and closets.  They are a mess.  I don’t care about them…only how it relates to the fact I’m a closet slob!  One of the ways I irritate him is by my lack of rules when it comes to putting the dishes away out of the dishwasher.  I know, generally, which cupboards they go in but I just stick them where they will go.  Judging by the noise created when he is cooking, I know that he is beyond irritated.  I once thought it was a control thing…you control and disobey the actions you can because other things are out of control.  I don’t think this applies to my life now.  I just don’t care.

I was stacking quilts and blankets in the guest room closet the other day – I realized they would probably fit better if I folded them all the same way and stacked them neatly.  Okay..the first one or two but then it was just get it done.

I have also wondered if it had to do with my upbringing.  My mother was a stickler on organization…no clutter, everything in its place and closets and cupboards with closed doors were just as important as the neatness of the rest of the house.  OH PISHAW!

Another theory I have is – the pain or shame or anger or grief is hidden within.  Stuffed in until nothing else will fit.  But on the outside … the me that everyone sees is neat and tidy and put together.

I don’t know.  Soliciting opinions here.

Until next time….