Mutated Cupboards

The tyranny of the urgent drives entirely too much of my life. I hopscotch around to my many looming projects, with the deadlines as my pressure point. How I wish I could be steady and disciplined, as my husband is, but then again, where would be the fun in that? I am very thankful (when I'm not fuming) that he balances my excesses (and I, his). It's the cause of many a fuss but is also the thing that makes us a better team. 

My Daddy had a little sign on his workbench, that my sister owns now...I should engrave it on our walls, because it says: "Do It Now." Daddy had my same butterfly/squirrel/ADD-whatever-thing that keeps us from finishing what we start. He seemed to master this somewhere along the way, possibly due to the fact that Mama managed all the other things around him and they indeed balanced each other too. Ken and I have weekly meetings (even though our four kids are grown), where we eat breakfast and pull out our calendars, discussing what's ahead and what our priorities are. He also has helped me with my timelines and cutting out what's not so important. I honestly say that my real estate business is possible because of him and our team effort. He helps keep me grounded and I help him find the butterflies. This is a good plan. 

In the day-to-day, however, I am starting to wonder why my cupboards and drawers are all sprouting babies. I have a cabinet in the hall bathroom that is getting hard to close. Everything in there looks essential, but I only use a few things out of it. Maybe we're hoarding up for the apocalypse? How do you let yourself throw away perfectly good stuff that looked so important when it was all shiny up on the Amazon app? There's fancy facial creams and cleansers that I have forgotten about...hair products that bear mysterious promises, but I can't remember what those promises actually are. Years ago, I bought pretty baskets to put things in. Now they're overflowing and dropping their excesses every time I dare to crack open a cabinet.  These first-world problems need an intervention. I know a wonderful lady who is a professional organizer, but she's busy packing up her own house to move. Plus, you have to pay those people. Does that mean I get to do it myself and also pay myself? I think so. In fact, I think that deserves overtime pay and night differential, because I'm gonna be digging through here 'til after midnight. Just do it now...