As a concrete step toward my resolution to wrest order from my life chaos, I signed up for FlyLady , an online support group for clutterbugs.
It's hard to describe how Flylady works. It's like having a sweetly nagging Southern belle -- someone who calls you "Precious" -- sending your daily e-mails reminding you to "swish and swipe" (that'd be in the bathroom), shine your sink and throw a load of laundry in the machine. And every week she focuses on an area of your home for a more intensive cleaning and decluttering...an extra 15 minutes a day doing something in that room to keep it civilized.
I feel as if I live on the other side of a great cultural divide, with the FlyLadies over yonder in their Donna Reed pearls...so much so that I kind of have to read my daily set of missives with a sense of irony -- maybe picturing a more Blanche DuBoisish character composing them out on the verandah in between sips of gin. I feel embarrassed at my apparent need for an external locus of control -- what sort of person can't get organized without directive e-mails from an imaginary friend?
But I'm doing it. I am swishing and swiping and shining and loading.