It doesnâ€™t help this February DH, Bean and I are living in about 900 square feet of space and weâ€™re straining at the gussets. Maintaining tidiness here feels like trying to keep a house of cards erect in a windstorm.
Iâ€™d give a lot for a dishwasher tonight (the sink drain keeps clogging, and it gives me the heebie-jeebies to unclog it.) More for a basement that doesnâ€™t flood with every rain storm (our boxes of books and summer clothes sit damply on pallets).
Tonight I am restless with longing: for a bedroom that is JUST a bedroom (not a nursery, and the epicenter for endless heaps of laundry), for a studio (that is NOT the dining room table), for ample cupboards and closets and shelves to store things in properly
Iâ€™m bumping up against my own thoughts like clothes on tumble dry. I feel wrung out.