My best friend is the Felix to my Oscar. A place for everything and everything in its place. I often ask him if his compulsion to clean doesn't add to his stress. He insists no, that it makes his life more comfortable and enables him to be more productive.
I think I get it now.
My home is neater than it's been in years. I have taken Hefty bags to the dumpster and 78 books to Goodwill. I've hung things up and put things away. It's by no means a showplace (I can still see 11 pair of shoes from here) but it's more organized. And it gives me an interesting feeling when I enter a room. Surprised, a little pleased.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
The trick is to maintain it, isn't it?
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