I have little envy of the Real Housewives of any where. Their lives seem chaotic and filled with ridiculous drama that if not scripted,which I highly think it is, you couldn't make up. The weekend get aways at 5 star hotels and personal chefs-who care! I can meet up with a friend, a real friend, any weekend for a walk around a neighborhood and a stop at a coffee house, and sit down to a homemade pasta dinner. No, if there is anything I envy is the always immaculate and spotlessly clean homes. Of course these homes are camera ready at all times, and come with cleaning personell. I would love to live in a house in which I do not feel the need to keep certain doors closed at all times.
While I know most people have a room of doom, the clutter room, the space with a head case, I seem to have many of them. Closed doors are my friends. I can spend a whirlwind fifteen minutes and get my immediate walk in space tidy enough that I don't want to crawl in a drawer if my mother in law shows up, but if she opened those doors, I might burst into tears. Those doors are meant to stay shut, unless I or a family member open them. These are basic house grade doors-nothing unique. But when they help hide my clutter, or my unmade bed and dirty laundry strewn shamelessly about the room, they became my ally.
A note about this post.
This post was originally one of my exercises from Sam and Writing. While Natalia Lialina from In the Writers Closet, has decided to end her blogs, I am eternally grateful to her. Her support, feedback, and push to write every day, sometimes about seemingly mundane things, has helped me uncover memories and invoked thoughts and ideas I didn't know I had. I may be pulling a few others over to meet my Blog Every Day November goal. #BEDN