So I know that's bad grammar... but give me some poetic license, okay? I have 12 more days until I go back to the doctor to have them taken out. Ugh! I don't know if I'll be able to make it that long (hehe).
In other news, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with life (or more specifically my house) these days. I think it was William Wordsworth who wrote "the world is too much with us." Something like that. Okay, no. It's exactly that. I couldn't leave those words quoted, and possible incorrectly, so I just Googled it. And checked it. And that's exactly what he wrote. If I were writing those lines today, I might change them a bit to say that my house is too much with me.
My house looks like a bomb went off and there's really no good reason for it to look that way. It's not like I just came back from a month-long trip and my suitcases exploded everywhere (I wish). It's not like a have a toddler running around the house messing up everything. It's not like I don't have a place for everything.
Oh wait, that IS the problem. Space. Who knew that without enough storage space, one's house would slowly become a miserable mess of piles. Of "stuff." I desperately want to unload a lot of this "stuff" but you see, that requires mental effort. "Do I really need this?" "Can I replace this if I change my mind after I've gotten rid of it?" "Should I donate it or try to make some money off of it?" "If I'm keeping this, WHERE am I keeping this?" Oh yeah... and then the physical effort of actually putting it back where it belongs. Everytime!
Does anyone else have problems like this? Am I the only one?