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Sunday. I decided to take a day off and do nothing. I’ll try to work on my new project. I’m crocheting a magic carpet for my Arabian Nights room. I realized that was missing.

There are many things I should do but most of them make too much noise and I’m not allowed to make any noise on Sundays. I feel so good when I have the perfect excuse.
Now I wish my mom visits soon. I need to tidy up the closets and I truly hate to do it. She says it’s relaxing. I can’t understand how that could be relaxing.
I remember every time my sister was mad. She went to her closet, threw everything on the floor and then put it all back in, perfectly folded and sorted.
Many times I tried to convince her to walk three more steps and do that in my closet. She never did it because mostly, I was the cause of her being mad.

I’m the kind of person who could wear only the first three things on the pile just to avoid making a mess because I know I’ll have to tidy it up later. The problem now is that I’m really behind doing laundry. And folding. And putting the stuff away. So I’m wearing all my clothes. Last week I wore a t-shirt that I probably wore last in 2000. After that, it didn’t fit me anymore. And then when I lost weight, it ended up on the bottom of the pile. Wearing it again made me really happy.

The only negative thing now is that my kids are starting to miss underwear and socks.
Oh well, nothing is perfect. (And I don’t believe that’s true).

~ by DotedOn on September 11, 2016.