About twice a year, the organization bug latches on so hard I am powerless against cords sticking out all willy nilly, too many things in drawers and makeup brushes that have not been washed. In a while. Or ever.
The past weekend begins with the fridge. If only it resembled a Pinterest fridge, filled to bursting with compartments, dividers and holders to encompass condiments, cans and various cheeses. Alas, I live alone and don’t keep that much stuff in there.
Most of the time. Middle Chicken stays with me at the moment and shopping together we find things that seem like such a good idea at the time. Case in point: Fancy lettuces. Basically, lettuce should be filed under toss out the window on the way home or wait ’til it rots in the crisper.
Saturday finds madwoman decluttering–ruthlessly purging fridge and pantry of anything past its expiration date–I’m talking to you mayonnaise. In the trash goes anything less than shower fresh as well. The pantry bothered me deeply enough to dream of it earlier in the week. Lo and behold, flour bugs are lurking in the pancake mix which leads to squirmies and a small scream. That leads to a toss of anything housed in the cabinet unsealed. Middle Chicken requests not to know what I saw in the box. Smart girl. Hint–it was moving.
Which leads to panic over cat dishes lurking nearby–scrub a dub dub with bleach and a dishwasher cycle convince me the kittens will live. The floor is now affected by God knows what so that needs a scrub which leads to vacuuming which naturally carries on to removing couch cushions and finding the prizes inside. A few wrappers and a cat toy. Sadly, no hundred dollar bills.
Other cabinets display a lack of Tupperware and Rubbermaid where two full sets formerly perched. Somehow lids and bottoms have gone the way of singleton socks. It’s not like there’s a plethora of gourmet home-baked goods being sent home with friends. What gives?
A sparkling fridge and pristine pantry give way to Monday morning car inspection. Tomorrow my beloved will go through the wash. I’ll pull a shammy from the trunk and shine her windows and lights and vacuum her insides until she smells new again. Meat Loaf will blast from the speakers on the trip home as happiness will grip tight.
May as well embrace the crazy.
The Duchess Diaries 