The perils and pleasures of finding things you forgot about
I’m sitting on the couch having just eaten the second to worst rendition of poached eggs possible. Really bad, like if Nailed It had a breakfast episode. The only thing worse would have been if the yolks were overcooked.
Something comes over me and I decide I’m going to do some sort of organizing. I’ve been meaning to fold my clothes that are not fresh and clean yet definitely not dirty but for some reason in this moment it seems so pointless. It seems so simple I might as well do it tomorrow. It seems like that everyday, which probably makes me sound like a slob but I’m really not. I’m the first to call our space messy and will often cite a supposed daily goal of cleaning in exasperation when I’m burnt out.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Things I Wrote While No One Was Looking to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.