who really cares?

I just spent the last hour “cleaning up” our basement for my mum, who, as mentioned previously on this blog, will be staying with us for a few days. Our basement, as it stands now, will never be clean. We moved from a house with a garage to a house without a garage. A good portion of what was in our garage, including four bikes, now lives in our basement. We do have a crawl space, but it’s not very accessible and it floods periodically. We have stuff down there, but it’s all up on shelves and it’s stuff we don’t use very often. (Invariably, if I’m getting something out of the crawl space, I hurt myself getting out. The latest was getting the kids camping chairs out for the Santa Parade. I was backing out of the small opening and cracked my head on the overhang.)

I often get frustrated by the state of our house. And it’s not limited to the basement. Our bedroom always has stuff lying around in it that shouldn’t be there. Some of the stuff has a home and Greg and I are just too lazy to put it away, other stuff doesn’t have a home and ends up in our bedroom, for lack of a better place (usually because the basement’s too messy to fit anything else).

I wish it didn’t bug me. There are times when I’m fine with it…I can ignore the clutter and recognize that my priorities are elsewhere right now. Some day I’ll have the time to find a home for everything, and some day Greg and I will have the money to actually build a home for everything, but right now is not that time. I do know that when I’m 80, I’m not going to look back on my life and wish I had a tidier house. I just wish that at 41 I could let it go.