No, not immediately. If I were that good, I would never have gotten myself into this mess.
First, I panicked. It went something like this:
- Oh, no! I'll never get to bed!
- I'll be up all night because I told my family I would get this pile of junk out of the dining room tonight.
- I've failed.
- Wait, I only have to get rid of one thing.
- That thing could be a piece of paper. Surely, I can find a piece of paper to get rid of.
- That's dumb. I can't blog that. I recycle paper every day.
- OK, I'll just clean up this pile of children's books.
- Darn. Half of them are French so I can't let go of them yet, and half of them are English so they are going to my nephews. It doesn't really count if I can only get them as far as the front hall closet to await my next trip to see them.
- The front hall closet! It's full of stuff I've been trying to find homes for! All I have to do is pick one thing, decide where it's going, and PUT IT IN MY CAR so it has a reasonable chance of getting there!
Every one of those items is something I already decided some time ago to get rid of, and didn't. Why? Because I seem to want all of my things to have a "soft landing." I feel like it needs to go to a good home, or I need to get money for it, or something purposeful. I don't want to put myself down here-- it is absolutely my intention to love myself through this-- but seriously?! I'm not putting babies up for adoption.
Speaking of babies, one of the items that is FINALLY leaving the house is a diaper bag. My "babies" are starting the 4th and 7th grades! I feel like I just smacked myself upside the head for holding on to that so long. Wait, my feelings are hurt. Now I have to hug me a few times and tell me I was just teasing.
