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Dirty Laundry

This is my bed, made.

This was my win yesterday morning, my one nod to order in my universe.  They say it helps, at least making your bed.  So this would be my attempt at well-being and it might fool you, unless, like me, you could see beyond the edges of the frame to the pile of laundry.  Piles, actually.  To the left is the spot where I "cleaned up" after the dog got sick two weeks ago.  And then the one from when he puked again the next day.  But I guess it's not really clean if the spots are still there.

Beyond the frame is a catalogue of my failures. There's the fact that every incandescent light bulb in the house is burned out and I thought we had replacements but we don't; so I sit in the dark.  The printer is out of ink. The refrigerator is empty except for cheese and hot dogs and half and half.  Stacks of unmanaged paperwork cover every horizontal surface.  Regular adults do not live this way, Corinna.

Will is accusatorially folding clothes in the TV room, which we only enter these days to pick through the mound of clean laundry in hopes of finding something to send Ezra to school in. (Will may not actually be sending daggers of resentment my way.  I might be doing that to myself, since watching him fold clothes alone feels worse than seeing a pile of clothes stagnate there.)

Oh and look, there's a letter from the endocrinologist. You've gone and allowed your adrenals get fatigued. How careless.

And the car smells like burning elk jerky from that encounter with the elk on the way to Thanksgiving because where the hell is a car wash in this place anyway?

I wonder if the elk's soul also got stuck to the Subaru's radiator in the encounter and if he's noticed that he's burning in the hell-fires of I-25 traffic or if he's pissed and bewildered that he's getting dragged into the Denver suburbs everyday in his afterlife.  This was not how it was supposed to be.

And why are your shoulders around your ears, Corinna?  Relax.

Ezra came out of his room saying "my throat hurts. I want to take my brain out so my throat won't hurt no more."

And I thought Kid, you might be onto something. I could take my brain out and put it on the bedside table next to the well-made bed.  It could be one more piece of clutter I crop out of the frame.

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  • Response
    Response: cleaners chester
    Pile of clothes in laundry always makes me sad I don't like washing so there are big piles of clothes in my house I am going to hire someone who can wash the laundry.I think I should contact some laundry service providers.

Reader Comments (14)

Subaru? I knew I loved you for a reason.

All I can say is you're not alone. This is eerily similar to my suppressed sub conscience thoughts almost every day. One day you're going to go nuts and replace all the bulbs in the house and everyone will wonder what the hell got into you (trust me).

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterMike

Personally, I think cropping is underrated! lol I crop a lot, it keeps me sane (but I also heavily believe in photoshopping those pesky 10 lbs off as well) Hang in there, take care of yourself, and it'll all work out. So the house is a little messy, everyone will surive. Just remember to live, and I think photography is a great motivator for that and remembering the great small things in life (like a made bed!)

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered Commenterbusymomma66

Oh Corinna, you definitely aren't alone. Just this morning the hubby was wondering where Ani's socks are and I just pointed to the pile of laundry on the bed, floor, well just about everywhere really! Breathe and know that there are so many others around just like you with exactly the same feelings. I actually found your post funny as it me!

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterTamar

This is precisely how regular adults live. Personally, I never trust anyone who consistently has a perfect house.

I think we all, to a certain extent, really live in the areas outside the crop. A friend and I had a big discussion about this, when she lamented that people left remarks on her posted images about her "idyllic" life. "They give me no credit for all the hard work I do, for everything I struggle with regularly." I replied, "They're not trying to be just leave all that outside the crop. They are commenting only on the sliver of a peek you give them into your life. It's the only thing they see, so it's the only thing they know."

Revel in living life outside the crop. It's where the REAL stuff happens that makes up the rich fabric of your life, dog puke and all. Those struggles - be they laundry or lightbulbs - are what connect us all as imperfect humans. I find comfort and a remarkable amount of beauty in that.

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered Commenteramy z

What a beautiful...honest...heartfelt post. It's true - things have to move forwards in tiny incremental steps. Bed-making is a good place to start. Love the that you could share what we don't see beyond the frame.

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterMarcie

Sophia the former SUPER NANNY will come to Denver & make your lives perfect in a week - soon! LOVE YOU! XOXOXOXO

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered Commentersophia peron

funny how life is like that. I can totally relate. I love what amy z wrote, that concept of life being outside the crop...and it being beautiful. I'm going to think about that more as i look around at my uncropped life...

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterAllison

Hi, Corinna

Connor has mastered the shake it out and smell it test already. My house is a reflection of how my running life is going, clean house equals running in the dumper.

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterBeth

Don't you love the adrenal fatigue diagnosis? I've had that one. What it really means is STRESS!
Watch out for the growth hormone prescription; I almost went there! HANG IN THERE, this too shall pass. xoxoxo

November 30, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterDeb

Yes, they do, too. Regular adults really do live on top of Mount Laundry. Really. You are not alone. But thanks for making me feel better about the detritus piling up in my own home!

December 1, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterTracy Wohlgenant

Yes, they do, too. Regular adults really do live on top of Mount Laundry. Really. You are not alone. But thanks for making me feel better about the detritus piling up in my own home!

December 1, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterTracy Wohlgenant

Oh Corinna, if only I could send you a shot of the wasteland that is our bedroom/loft/family room/spare bedroom/garage...while it would undoubtedly make you feel much better, I think a disclosure such as that would not go over well with my wife. Here's what I think; you work hard and you make choices--from what I see you're making all the right ones.

December 4, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterChristopher

I can also personally vouch for the fact that you aren't alone here. We live in a tiny house with way too much stuff in it that has been accumulated along the way with only the best of intentions. Closets are stuffed to capacity. Kitchen cabinets, especially the one holding the canned goods, are like booby traps waiting to spring on you when you innocently open the door to see if there is a pouch of tuna living there. I know well what everyone has contributed here.

December 5, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterJane

Oh thank god, Corinna, I thought I was the only one out here.

December 5, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterCatherine

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