I had the brilliant idea to switch bf and myself's bedroom with my office. This seemed like the Tomas Edison of ideas because seeing as we don't spend a ton of time in the bedroom, sorry bf it's true, it has the largest square footage and the smallest closet. On the other hand I spend quite a bit of time working on projects in my office where I have the most physical furniture but the least square footage, however it has the BIGGEST closet space. My clothes needed a bigger home; it was like a constant flood of hoodies, denim, and heels spilling over a failing dam. Bf said, no. But, why? Couldn't he see it made sense? I mean duh, right? I couldn't live in this disorganized clutter of crap piling on crap piling on stuff that I didn't even know was there half the time. There just simply wasn't enough closet space, and the extra floor space we had in the bedroom, was tragically being put to bad use by me and my spill over. So I took matters into my own hands. I said, "you wont have to help me do any thing except move the beds, I'll do the rest." I got my yes, but I got the biggest pain in my ass along with it.
Sometimes we think we are super woman and no task is too big for us. I struggle with this way of thinking to a fault. When I do a project I want to plan it, buy the materials, start it, change it, fix it, start it over, and finish it all in one day. Whatever it takes to get it done nothing can stand in my way. I am learning that while it is good to be motivated, sometimes pushing yourself too hard can make experiences in life seem less rewarding and even painful. Is it about getting it done, or is it about enjoying what you are doing? Yesterday while switching the rooms, I became exhausted after finally completing just the movement of items from room to room. Everything still needed to be put away, hung up, organized, and moved to the right places. As I started to move things around in the new office I could really feel the fatigue in my muscles. In order to put stuff away I needed to move the bed around so I could put the desk and the book case where it needed to go. I didn't want to waste time so I didn't wait for bf to get home from work, I just muscled my way through each task banging a lip here and a shin there. I don't know why I am like this, and maybe you can relate, but I am one of those people who doesn't like to wait around for help. Knowing this, I could feel this task start to get more and more daunting as it got later in the day but giving up felt like a failure to me for some reason. This was a wrong feeling to ignore. As I went to move a bookcase the shelves dropped off, hit the bottom level and broke the whole thing into two. I had no book shelf and I had no where to put this clutter that had manifested on top of my guest bed. I choked back a break down. So, then I managed to carry my giant Ikea desk, by myself, through two doors and into my office, an action deemed "HULK-ing it" by the guy who carries my Goodwill donations in for me. Thanks bro. And as I tried to push the desk into the corner to meet it's final resting place, I heard a deafening crack and then a boom. Me and the desk both hit the floor, and at that moment I couldn't tell which one of us was in more pieces. While the entire left side of the desk had snapped off in such an aggressive manner that the interior particle board was showing and it resembled the bite of a great white shark, I on the other hand was trying to hold back tears of frustration and whimpers of disappointment because my ego had been shattered. I still couldn't just walk away. I tried to remove the broken desk from the room so I could keep working and in doing so I sliced my finger on the jagged edge of the desk. I hit my wall. I was tired, frustrated, and as I got more tired and more frustrated things kept getting worse. I finally realized I am not super woman, and maybe I had bitten of more then I could chew, and some proverbial "it" decided to start biting back. This was supposed to be fun and when it stopped being fun I should have stopped. I am slowly learning, especially when it comes to matters of the home, that no one and nothing is perfect, everyone needs help sometimes, and that it is just the way it is.
Cheers!
