Big Brother's bullying problems at school just wouldn't go away. He was tough and brave. But it isn't supposed to be a constant battle at 7 years old just to make it through the day.
So God took over. We got to move to a new school and get to move to a new apartment. So what happens now?
Anxiety. Neurotic labeling. Panic in the chaos.
The chaos in my apartment is overwhelming. Things are not in their proper home. There are boxes and bags in my way everywhere.
I feel like I need to hire one of those therapists from Hoarders to come help me deal with it.
And no I don't have a hoard. In fact, quite the opposite. I am sometimes too good at getting rid of things.
But this state of the in between, I don't like it.
Everything I own has its specific place where it lives. I'm not obsessive about it, I just want to know where it's supposed to go when I'm picking up.
I want to know where something is when I go looking for it – or when my kids ask for it.
Should Gordon Ramsey show up in my kitchen and ask for my garlic press, I want to be able to say it is in the drawer to your right, all the way to the back. on the left.
When my son asks for the instructions to his Atlantis Lego set, I want to be able to say it is in the blue bin just to the left of your desk. Its the 2nd bin down.
I want to be able to do this without having to go look for these things first. I just want to know. And I don't do piles of stuff. I just. Can't. Do. Piles.
See, if I know EXACTLY where my boys' coats, hats, gloves, and backpacks are, I can spend 5 extra minutes in bed before I get up in the morning.
If I know where the Legos are, I don't have to stop the BeyBlade battle to go on a hunt.
Knowing where things are and being organized makes my life simple. Life is not simple right now. It is CHAOS. I'm neurotic. I would highly recommend sending me lots of coffee and avoiding me for the next 2 weeks. Then I'll be in the new place and getting reorganized.
I'll still be neurotic, but less so.