Sometimes the quickest route to appreciating where you are is to take a look at where you've been. From the spiral notebook journals I've kept since a few days before my fifteenth birthday this entry was written at a time when Hubby and I shared a two-bedroom apartment with three children four and under, a dog and a cat:
Sunday, February 14, 1993
There was a mitten in the cat food bowl. Things like that happen around here--I don't waste a lot of time struggling against the indominitable forces of chaos. Once I found my diaphragm in the dish drainer. To this day, I do not understand how it got there. But that only serves to prove my point: Chaos is the natural order of things. How much time and energy should we expend fighting it? Don't think I don't recognize that argument for the excuse (for laziness) that it is.
I am feeling overwhelmed by housework. Things aren't messier here than usual, it is just that I am trying harder than ever before and it's still messy. There are just too many of us here--the apartment is so tiny and we have so many THINGS. It is getting to the point where buying a Matchbox car is a major decision--do we really have the room?
2 hours ago