My dishwasher pooped out on me, and over the weekend I was sick. You can imagine what kind of havoc that combination can wreak on a household. My husband is a wonderful man, very helpful and hardworking, but I'm sorry to say that he relies on me for motivation, and when I'm down for the count, usually so is he. He took fine care of me, but the house suffered.
So, this week I start in a hole and won't even think about reclaiming fallen areas of the house. Besides decluttering my house I'm trying to get fit. In the past, the house along with everyone else has come first, and today it was tempting to ignore my promise to walk 30 minutes a day in favor of tackling the kitchen, but I decided to put taking care of me first today, so I got on my treadmill, which gave me the opportunity to share a messy space I've been wanting to reclaim for a long time,...my bedroom.
That's me, on the treadmill, in my messy bedroom, ignoring the clutter because I'm putting myself first on the list. Gosh, if I usually put the house before myself, and my house is such a mess, what does that say about me?
No matter. I'm fixing both!
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