I'm OK now!

Hey. I am ok now. We have set a mutual deadline (His idea) to get the clutter cleaned up by the end of this year. That gives us four months. I can laugh again. And smile.

(I'm not called cyclothymic cister for nothing).

Signing Off for Awhile

This site has been therapeutic for me. I have laughed and commiserated with each of you. I was able to make light of my own husband’s crap, lack of organizational skills and lack of motivation to fix the problem using humor to overcome the distress.

Now my posts have taken on a different tone. I can’t laugh about my situation any longer, which does not seem in keeping with the purpose of this site.

So since my anger out-weighs my ability to laugh, I will not post for a while.

Thank you all for your support and best wishes for overcoming your own messy situations. I will still check in from time to time to see how you are doing.

You can still read me at Cyclothymic Cister.

Later. . .

Jill/Cyclothymic Cister

When is Crap not crap?

(please pardon the crappy picture--the quality, not the contents)

Sigh... I guess when the crap is now a part of self-employment. At least that's the current excuse.

I still think there is no reason why this couldn't be a bit neater--and the stacking on the dining room table and under it just doesn't need to happen. He has a shop out back he could take these boxes too. Not to mention the intake manifold and other various car parts.

Someday. Someday I will have a house with an attached two car garage that I can at least throw this crap into when it gets to me. Someday...

~Sleeping Mommy

My Pride is Hurt

A co-worker who passes by my house everyday on his way home said, "Your place always looks like you having a damn yard sale. Me and everybody else that passes by thinks so."

Also, sometime back, a co-worker's wife said something that got back to me. She said our house is so nice. Too bad it has to be so junky.

Cyclothymic Cister

Klutter Kills a Marriage

Well, counseling was going well. Then, a huge setback. Instead of getting clutter cleaned up and finishing projects, DH says he wants a motorcycle. I don’t care what he does, mind you, so long as we have the money and the mundane things are taken care of first. So we had a big blow up. He is a classic example of passive-aggressive. He tells me that he wants me to be happy and to just tell him what needs to be done. Then he resents like hell when I ask him to do something. So to get even, instead of coming out and saying he is angry, he sabotages any hope of projects getting done by spending time and money on foolish things.

Without telling you all the sorted details of our domestic disputes, I will say that I calmly and matter-of-factly, proceeded to take a razor knife and cut up the carpet. It is filthy, cheap, supposed to be off white, but is now grayish brown and worn out. He took pictures, as if I were insane. I ignored him. I have pictures of my own, of his messes. (I took them several months ago, intending to post them on this site, but I felt like that would be betraying him. Blehhh).

So, our flooring is now sub-floor, which actually looks better than the old carpet. And tomorrow, a friend who just happens to be a professional painter (who owes me a favor) is coming over to help me paint the interior of the house. (And painters always bring beer, yeh). Then I will hang pictures and shelves and get things in order. Then, I will clean out the garage even if it means getting rid of things we would ordinarily keep. I will clean up the driveway and the tool shed. If I have any extra money, I will buy a pre-fab plastic out building to put overflow tools in. I will do it without help from DH. After all, I did it when I was single. I will not let him make me feel helpless anymore.

Cyclothymic Cister

Pink Tools

A friend suggested a way to keep my husband from using my tools, that is, my shovel, rack and hoe. Paint the handles pink. And write, “I am gay” on them. (See the May 2, 2006 post about Tools).

Cylothymic Cister

Cleaning up the Crap—NOT!

Weekends are hard. Especially when I get enthusiastic about cleaning up my husband’s crap. Why do I set myself up for a fall? I should know by now that cleaning up the crap is a daunting task. But every other weekend, or so, I go through this. Then half way through the day I get so crazy that I end up calling my sister and telling her the same ol’ story. The clutter is driving me crazy!

Yes, I’m in counseling. We are trying to analyze MY personality. That is all fine and good. But the truth still remains that it is my husband’s crap that is making me insane! When I trace the thread of what has me so upset, the tread always leads back to the clutter.

DH did volunteer to go to counseling, too. So far he hasn’t. His work has been especially busy right now and he hasn’t had the time to make it to the appointments. But I am not going to let him off the hook. You see, I am afraid as time goes by, he will mistakenly think that OFFERING to go the counseling is the SAME THING as going. Not so, DH. Your time is coming.

Jill/Cyclothymic Cister