Laundry Room Chronicles

file1951347375763On Tuesday I posted a blog that was meant to be scheduled next week, so the rest of this week is out of line.  I started a story in my last blog that I will continue next week. For now, just bear with me. On Mondays and Wednesdays I hope to tell that story, about how I drifted to sea and what God is doing to bring me back and protect me from drifting into such dark, lonely waters again. Fridays will be a little more practical as I journey toward simplifying and restoring my space and my life. So. Onward.

I’m decluttering my house. I’m starting with the hidden areas like closets and drawers, and I will reward myself with the public areas when I’m done. For a while, though, I decided to shift gears just a bit and tackle the laundry room.

I have a tiny laundry room. In the depths of this itty bitty room hide a litter box, every tool we own, a million cans of paint, cleaning supplies, a washer, a dryer, and a host of things I don’t even know are there. Maybe the worst is the shelf where I have cans of paint. You know, saved to touch up a wall. Except that, in my 47 years on this planet, I have never once touched up paint.  Ever.

But this year, I tell myself, I’m simplifying my life.  I will have time and energy to prettify (?) my house and touch things up. I will use all those old cleaners to clean. Those shelves represent the person I want to be. Clean house, perfect paint, tools used to create lovely new things. My house will look like something out of Better Homes and Gardens.

Um, right. Time for a little reality checking. I like the idea of minimalism and simple living. But I’m still me. I know me. Changing my house isn’t going to provide me with a new personality. Time to look at my stuff with a little more reality and a little less dreaming.

I’m tossing the old cleaning supplies. I enjoy buying them, so if I get done with the simplifying and need a new cleaning supply, I’ll go buy it. And the paint cans are history, too. I considered writing down the brand and color of each paint on an index card, along with a little dab of the color, but again–I will lose the cards, and I won’t use them. I get bored with paint colors. I’m more likely to repaint a room entirely than touch up scuffs.

I’m enjoying my simple life journey. Makes me laugh. I’m such a dreamer. Sure, God can change me, and he is. But I think, in the end, I’m still going to be the me who won’t put in the effort to have a perfect house. I also realize decluttering won’t be a one-time thing where I can move on to better pastimes. Just like restoring my soul won’t be a one-time event. I will have to be diligent and honest with myself and careful of my space, my time, my beliefs, my heart. Time to be honest about that and move on to the next shelves, which include boxes of screws and tubes of grout.  Three-quarter-empty boxes of screws and mostly-dried-up tubes of grout.  Wonder how long I can agonize over those.

3 thoughts on “Laundry Room Chronicles

  1. Oh, Jill…the paint cans… I bet I have more cans than you! LOL! (Most of which are so thick or absolutely dried up that they are no use for touching up…were I so inclined!) Have you any room on vases and odd lightbulbs? I plenty to share! 😉


    • I’m trying to figure out how to speed dry the paint so I can get the cans out of here. I’m jealous of your dried paint cans. And let’s not even talk about the HUGE Goodwill pile in the center of my kitchen at this moment. But I am going to conquer this mess!


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