Seven Rooms, Seven Days - The Laundry Room

Let the excitement begin!

So, I decided to tackle the laundry room first. Although it is the smallest room in the house, it is also the most neglected. I figured I'd start fast and easy to really boost my motivation. Easy? Yes. Fast? Not so much. When I sketched out my Seven Days plan, I forgot to factor in the ninety-seven kajillion interuptions that have landed me here in the first place.

It took me the better part of the morning to do this one small room. Oy vey. Let me tell you - I have adjusted my expectations for the remaining rooms. This will not be a total declutter, but rather a surface declutter. That which is on countertops, tabletops, bedside tables, and bedroom floors - look out! That which lurks in drawers, under beds, and in the cracks of the couches - hang tight. I'll get to you later.

So here we go. Prepare to be amazed at the junky state of affairs of my home!

Not entirely awful here. I mean, doesn't everyone keep their wedding china in a big green plastic storage bin on the top shelf of the laundry room? And by the way, evidently when houses were being built in the late seventies/early eighties, people must have eaten less. Or maybe there used to be a legitimate pantry around here and I haven't found it yet. Either way, most of our dry goods get stored in the laundry room, because nothing says I Love You like Downy-scented rice.


AFTER: Not hugely different . . .


This is where things get ugly:


AFTER: So much better!


I'm embarrassed


AFTER: Much TIDE-ier! Get it? You know you were going to say it if I didn't!


This side of the room, the one with all the cleaning supplies? Yeah, it doesn't get much attention.


AFTER: Bettah.


Have I ever mentioned I hate ironing? Because oh yes I do.


AFTER: Wondering where The Coach's pants went? I IRONED THEM.


If anyone is looking for me, I'll be drinking tea on the floor of my laundry room - enjoying the neatness and trying to gear up for tomorrow's work - the kitchen.

Seven Rooms, Seven Days Challenge!

The packing, the unpacking, the travel, the being at home with no schedule . . . it's all taken it's toll on my SortaCrunchy home.  

Plus, there's something about the start of the new year that makes me want to mend broken relationships.  I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I think I'm ready.  I want to get back together with Fly Lady.

Fly Lady and I have had a sometimes happy, sometimes rocky, on-and-off again relationship for about six years now.  When it's good, it's very, very good.  When it's bad . . . well, it's ugly.  I broke up with her sometime around September 1st and we haven't been on speaking terms since then.  The thing is, I really need someone to tell me what to do on a daily basis so my home is the warm, welcoming, organized, happy nest that I so desire for it to be.  But, I also have these complex authority issues, and when I feel like Fly Lady gets a little bossy, I turn into a five year old with her fingers in her ears chanting, "You're not the boss of me!  You can't tell me what to do!"

And that's when things around here get bad.  It's shameful, really.

Now, I know Fly Lady well enough to know what she's going to want me to do to get back together with her.  Baby Steps.  But she doesn't know the depths of clutter and junk that have joined forces to overthrow this house.  So I am doing my own little kick-start challenge before I go crawling back to seek her good graces and helpful (but bossy) guidance.

I am giving myself SEVEN DAYS to tackle the SEVEN ROOMS of my house.  And if I learned nothing else from NaBloPoMo, I learned that there's something about public accountability to motivate me to follow through on an idea.  Now, I know this is all going to be terribly exciting, dangerously fascinating stuff.  Reading and watching a woman declutter her house - I mean, really, it's why you started reading blogs in the first place, right?

Just bear with me.  Stay after me.  Pray for me.  

I start today.