This seemed manageable.

Then, I walked into this.

This.

And finally, this.

I’m trying to take this all in stride. Usually, I spot clean throughout the day, then dive into emergency surgery cleaning late in the afternoon. I’ve been trying to pace myself, because it feels like all I do is clean. But messes make me anxious. Really, really, anxious. I’ve got enough mess in my head, and I don’t like to see it personafied outside my body. Still. I am now taking deep, cleansing breaths. (Did someone say “cleansing?!”)
I’ve begun to hyperventilate. I’m a bit dizzy. I can not, simply can not look at these pictures anymore. Wait! I just looked up from my computer! The messes live! They’re not just bits and bytes! They’re actual, in-the-flesh dirty socks, peed-in underwear, crusty sippies and petrified breakfast sausage!

Wait again!

That’s not breakfast sausage!!!!!

******We temporarily interrupt this blog post while the author voluntarily checks herself into an in-patient psychiatric facility.******