everyday is a journey.
Fill with inviolable peace;
Stablish and keep my settled heart;
In Thee may all my wanderings cease,
From Thee no more may I depart:
Thy utmost goodness called to prove,
Loved with an everlasting love!
C. WESLEY.
As the month closed, I awaited anxiously for my truant landlord to come by bringing my new lease. It wasn't the uncertainty of the lease itself, but I needed a new parking sticker. Without that precious sticker, that flashing brightly tow truck would take my HHR (Herschel) for a ride. One that he didn't want. Of course, my landlord comes and goes as he pleases. He doesn't seem to be in desperate need of that rent check, sometimes coming two months later. Yes, it's true.
He text me telling me to take my old lease and have the office call him. Okay, no problem. I am Ms. Organization, you know. Should only take a second, but you see, there was a slight setback. That old lease wasn't where I thought it was and panic mode set in quickly. I tore apart my bedroom. Literally. Of course, it was in the last bin. Everything else sat on my bed and floor, the contents spilled all over. At that moment, it didn't matter.
It DID matter when I got home and looked at the mess in my room. I guess, my simplification project 2019 will have to start a few months earlier. Not exactly what I had planned for the day. Nor was I excited about the size of the work, either. I wanted to do clean up in small increments, not spend the next two days putting the room back to order.
I did, however, go through and toss out quite a bit of stuff. Might as well begin this project properly so I don't have to do it again later. I realized that I collect and hold onto things "just in case" which is ridiculous. In case of what? How in the world am I expecting to fit into a small dwelling if I am hoarding things just in case I need them someday?
I'm holding onto the kid's schoolwork papers and awards to pass on to them one day. I already did for Joe. I wonder if he even cares and maybe he threw it out. Everything we hold in our hand is a memory of a sweet time in our life. Do we feel as if we've betrayed them by getting rid of these items? I know I do. What kind of mom throws out her child's precious scribbling?
I think there's a whole lot of truth in this hoarding of mine. This will be more difficult than I thought.
Have a blessed day everyone.
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