How fascinating.

Do you ever get fascinated by certain people?

I don’t want to use the word “obsessed.” Because obsessed implies something insidious or evil is going on.

I’m talking about fascination. When there’s some fringe person in your life (because if you know this person too well, fascination is officially obsession) who you just want to know everything they do so you can study it.

Because that’s really what makes fascination different from obsession. You don’t really want to be involved with the person. You just want to know everything about them. It fascinates you.

And don’t go getting all judge-y on me about how you wouldn’t dream of doing something as creepy as “studying” a person, because I know everyone does it. EVEN YOU.

So come on, ‘fess up. Who gets fascinated now and then?


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4 Steps to Sanity

Sometimes I feel like I don’t have control over anything. Which is probably true. But it doesn’t mean I like to feel like it’s true.

It’s not even that I’m a total control freak. I’m just a little bit of a control freak. And honestly, it’s not even that I care what other people do. I just like to be a control freak over myself. Which…just makes me sound like a weirdo.

Anyway, the point of that accidental revealing of my inner psyche is that one of the main things that starts to make me feel out of control is when my apartment is out of control. When the coffee table starts getting a little too cluttered. When there is one too many pairs of shoes just…sitting there not put away. When there is one too many piles of papers sitting on every available surface. (Joey is the piler, for the record.) When the laundry hampers actually reach the point when they could be described as overflowing. When I kind of start to freak out.

Sometimes I get really jealous of some the women whose blogs I read. The ones that always seem to have a place for everything and everything in its place. Don’t get me wrong, I’m insanely inspired by them and I love seeing the clever storage solutions they come up with (and then stealing them for myself). But the thing is…I just don’t have the time to do what they do.

As much as I like to pretend to be the perfect “housewife,” the fact is, I’m not a housewife. I work full-time. And then I cram meetings, service, errands, the gym, family time, writing, cooking and cleaning the house in around that. Oh yeah, and sleep.

I have officially become one of those people who walks around thinking (in earnest), “Well, gee, there just aren’t enough hours in the day!”

And since, as we learned yesterday, it doesn’t look like my schedule is going to let up anytime soon, I figure it’s time to find a way to take more control over my life. Or, at the very least, my apartment.

So I’m making a promise to you right now. Every night, I will at the very least do these things (so when I come home from work the next day, just walking into my apartment doesn’t stress me out):

1. Swiff the floors. At the very least the kitchen. Because there are always an assortment of crumbs and things on the floor that just make me feel gross if I step on them.

2. Clear the coffee table. There’s usually a collection of glasses on the table each night, but from now on, they sleep in the sink.

3. All shoes get put away. Floor space is limited enough as is.

4. Go through the mail. No more piles.

It’s only four things, but I think it will help. As long as I keep the surface stuff under control, I’ll only have to do a deeper cleaning on the weekends to keep anything from getting away from me.

Do you have rules for what needs to be done every night? One blogger I read has a husband who insists on cleaning off the kitchen table every night. Anyone else have something like that?

Lesson learned: Baby steps are better than tantrums.