Friday, September 11, 2009
What Fell Friday
This is the Matron's living room. You can see by Gleaming Floor and Wide Open Space that she is the tidy sort. Indeed, not only is she tidy, she suffers from a case of Incurable Clutter Brain Suck.
This means that if her environs are messy and disorganized, her brain is too. She simply cannot function. Clutter and clump make her crabby and disoriented. Definitely not in the mood for love.
At the moment, not only is Incurable Clutter Brain Suck rendering her lovely self nearly psychotic, so is the dratted bacterial infection in her arm, which is not getting better. Just tonight, she switched to antibiotic #2, allowing the Hypochondrical Lobe masquerading as her brain to completely take over.
Nobody has more bookmarked links to "flesh eating bacteria." She'd bet good money.
Friends. She is in Fine Form. Thank God-Buddha-Oprah-Allah-Universe you do not live with her. She is not nearly so much fun in person.
Today--in such a tangled state -- she finally turned a corner over JUNK ON THE FLOOR. You see, the Matron spends many many of her precious minutes moving items from one spot in the house to another.
It is that simple: move an item from one spot to the place it belongs.
Strker's backpack is still where he left it when he came home from school. Ditto for his shoes--oh, and Scarlett's and Merrick's. John has had the same insurance bill on the kitchen counter for ten days. Snack? Drop it when you're done. Take Satan's Familiar on a walk? Just let go of the leash when you walk in the door. Phone? Forget about it. Far from nestling in their receivers, handsets are scattered throughout the house. The Matron cannot remember the last time someone replaced the scissors in her office after they used it.
Moving items from where they are left to where they belong.
Today, the Matron snapped. She is documenting the dysfunction (okay hers or theirs?)!
See this scrap of paper?
The Matron has no idea where it came from or who dropped it. But she does know this: she first noticed it at the bottom of the basement stairs on Friday, September 4 -- one week ago today.
Since then, nobody has touched it. The paper remains. Nobody has vacuumed, swept or otherwise concerned themselves with this small, unimportant -- but COMPLETELY visible --scrap of paper.Also on Friday, September 4, one week ago today, the Matron observed this Coke Zero can taking refuge underneath the living room radiator.
She decided not to touch it. Not ever. Armageddon will be upon her and she'll be all "don't mess with that can." Just to see if that can could possibly outlive her, untouched. This experiment started one week ago. The can endures. She figures someone other than her tidy self walks by that can 12 million times a day. Nothing.
John? Stryker? Don't you see that can!? Is it not KILLING you to put it in the recycling?!
Finally, also on September 4 (did she mention that is ONE WEEK AGO) she also noticed this barrette dropped in front of the basement bathroom door. You must actually take note of this item in order to not step on its edges and hurt the tender foot.
Still, on Day Seven, as the Lord rested, so do her husband and children. All the time.
These three items remain on the floor, where they fell, at least one week ago today. She will update you next Friday to see if someone else besides HER moves items from where they fall to where they belong -- or, if her husband is reading this blog.