i'm pretty sure my cat has peed on every moving box still left unpacked. we don't have carpet, so it's not in it...but i cannot escape this smell. no amount of vanilla amber candles will block it. it's true incentive for finishing the unpack, i guess. repugnant.
i'm surrounded by males. all my kids, save my stepdaughter, who lives on her own, are male. all my pets are male. i cannot escape the male-ness. it has it's place but today it's culminating in pee where it shouldn't be...down the sides of the toilet, on the wall behind the toilet, seeping out of diapers, and of course, on moving boxes. i've really had enough of all that today.
as i said earlier, and really mean...since i decided to try on perfectionism for size, my life has been much harder. i see stuff that needs doing and feel i must do it. and most of it can wait, like it has for most of my life. there are times when this foreign, perfect aiming behavior could have served me well...architecture school, for example. those kids are intense. i passed and i passed with good grades, etc...didn't pull a single all nighter, never had that harried feeling of not quite right yet. it was always fine, or good enough. but now...i know my kitchen floor is funky and needs to be mopped. usually i could say to myself "it's the weekend, i'll do it monday" and i'm desperately trying to say that now...because i have a whole pile of shoes and belts and hats to put away...since dumping a despoiled box out to get it out of the house....and really, my heart and butt wants to stay right here...but it's nagging me. i've a strong suspicion that if i finish this glass of wine, i'll win the battle. but i'll see that floor in the morning and flip out, internally for sure, externally, quite possibly. i want it to be shiny and clean and perfect. sundays do that to me.
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