Bought a book today

Well, technically I bought it last week after watching Oprah but it CAME today. (I adore Amazon.)

Does This Clutter Make My Butt Look Fat? By Peter Walsh. I'm only into the first chapter but I keep putting the book down to THINK about my clutter. It's amazing how he seems to be talking directly to ME.

I remember once telling my Mom that my horribly cluttered room was "an outward expression of my inward turmoil." I can't believe that I understood it back then and yet never did ANYTHING about it.

My apartment wasn't cluttered (until M moved in that is) and I took great joy in the fact that I did my dishes every night and put them up every morning, vacuumed every other day (Oscar's fur you know. And then Emmy's) kept my bedroom looking neat and tidy.

Heck, even at work I was organized. Believe it or not. I HAVE the basics. I just haven't put them into practice.

I think most of it is because I feel overwhelmed. Well, that and M doesn't seem to care about the mess and really, after I CLEAN the mess he just goes and makes another mess and forgets about it until I come in and blow up. I need to remember that he's not yet on board but with perseverance and practice (and perhaps a bit of bitching) he'll see how nice it is to have an organized house and will help me out by not leaving his pants in front of the 'fridge. (I know...I know. I have no clue either. Why in the HECK did he drop trou there? *shrug* I can't figure him out sometimes.)

Off to read more of this book. I'm anxious to see how he works the fat in your house and the fat on your body together.

Remembrance

It's been 30 years but I still remember. It haunts me day to day, whether in my conscious thoughts or in my subconscious doings, but it haunts me still.

I was 8 but I remember it as if it were yesterday, I remember what I was wearing, what I was doing. I close my eyes and I can see your face, hear your words, feel your touch...

and it makes me shudder. It makes me hate you, makes me seethe with an unholy fury so deep set that I feel nauseated from the sheer force of it.

I was 8 you bastard. 8 years old and you touched me. You made me feel that I was a bad person, that my parents would be mad at me if I didn't let you "help" me with my panties. I can feel your sticky hot breath on my cheek as you run your hand over my labia, run it up under my dress to where my breasts would be had I actually been a woman, as you put your hand back on the place no man should have ever touched until I was old enough to consent, old enough to know better.

I hate you. I hate what you made me into, what you made me feel. What you still make me feel. The self loathing, the hatred I feel for myself for being that stupid...that trusting. That I can trust again is nothing short of amazing. I feel like I can't love myself because of the shit you pulled.

To have to look at your idiotic leer Sunday after Sunday. To sit there and see people act as if you're a good man, someone to be trusted, someone who could never do wrong because, after all, you ARE a Christian, right? You would never do something like that to any little girl...right?

I see you and I find myself fantasizing about your death. Oh no, not at my own hand, but just that you're dead and gone. That I'd never have to look at you again. Never have to have you leer at me with that knowing look.

And that makes me even sicker and angrier at myself. To wish someone dead. That isn't what I want to be about, isn't what I know to be good and true, what Christ wants His people to feel.

But maybe, just maybe, when you're gone I can finally find some peace within myself.

Although it will never bring back that innocence lost 30 years ago.

And now...for a quick dilemma...

I'm getting ready to head off for ambien land. The kittens, who have been lounging around all evening, in peaceful somnolence, have just now figured out that if you get the jingle ball and take it into Mommy's bathtub...it rolls around REALLY fast and makes all sorts of happy jingle sounds!!!

So, do I hope that they get tired of jingle ball in the bathtub, or do I take it away for the night and give it back tomorrow when there's daylight and Mommy's head doesn't feel like exploding???

Eh, I'm a sucker. They can keep it in the tub...unless they start fighting. :oD

Little stinkers. I'm so twisted around their paws. Same with the big stinkers since Aggie just came in and indicated that treat time was TOO SHORT MOM! *G* So, last treats and then *I* am hitting the sack.

G'nite.

My "lightbulb" moment

Well, sort of. *G* I've had this particular one before...but it's a little brighter now.

I am FINALLY feeling MUCH MUCH better. The liquid gold in pill form and the inhaler seem to be working. (seriously $100 for 7 freakin' pills)

So today I slept a bit, got up and wandered around the house feeling lost and uncomfortable. I couldn't figure out what was going on but I was frustrated with myself and on the verge of tears when I started looking at the tv area and what an absolute mess it had become. Crap everywhere. And I do mean crap. Candles that have been burnt until they can't be burnt anymore, old soda bottles that I was "fighting" with M about throwing away. (he brings in his soda bottles and sometimes the paper cups from fast food joints and leaves them on the TV stand. GRRRR) Anyway, I got a trash bag and just started to toss.

With each thing I tossed, I grew lighter and lighter. Finally I had the hand upside the head moment....the CLUTTER is making me unhappy! "Well DUH, K (I said to myself) this isn't exactly a NEW thought now is it?" So the momentum grew. My TV stand, the DVDs, the CDs, the video game consoles, the cat toys (and toy basket) and the surrounding area is now rather clean. Almost devoid of clutter. I say almost because I'm sure I could get a few more things out of there. (*wink* like M's DVDs that he never ever ever watches...LOL) But even though there's still STUFF there, it's not CLUTTERED stuff. It's nicely organized stuff. Happy making stuff. :o)

And Whew I'm tired. *G* I still have the trouble of remembering that everything does NOT have to be done in 12 hours. It can take 48-72 or even longer. Just so long as SOME is done everyday. Then I will keep my head road going and I'll keep the happy growing.


(heh, and I had a phone call with Mom earlier to tape Oprah (the second showing) 'cause it's about the clutter making you fat. I SO need this show!!!)

I'm Back...

Hello! I'm back from weeks 'n weeks of fighting bronchitis. It's probably pneumonia by now but at least I'm feeling better!

I have to give a shout out to my dearest friend DogMom. Her blog has been awesome lately. I highly recommend reading it if just for the sheer pleasure in the beauty of her words.

Other than that, I've just been here doing not much. I have to get back in the swing of things and play catch up on a lot of the household stuff. *sigh* It never ends does it?