At Least The Axe Has A Home

I know that you all think that my light posting is because of my being all purge-y and that I'm probably headfirst in some closet throwing out shoes and sprinkling fairy dust to make it beautiful and shiny.

You are wrong. I have plans. It's just putting them into action that's giving me problems.

Yesterday I decided to run errands because SNOW IS COMING!! THERE WILL BE SNOW!! IT WILL ACCUMULATE!! STAY TUNED HOUR BY HOUR AS THIS STORM SHAPES UP AND WE WILL KEEP YOU ALERTED!! and I didn't want to have to drive around in THE SNOW!! with all of the frightened Hoosiers. (Okay. Probably need to rant about my hatred for weather reporting in this state in another post, right?) I didn't have much on my list. I needed to hit the bank and cash my kids' Christmas checks. I needed to find a shower caddy for the kids' bathroom. (Seriously. My boys have discovered Axe and we have about 7 different bottles of the stuff in the shower. Not to mention Maggie's 4 different razors, the enormous warehouse club shampoo and conditioner bottles, 4 different scrubbies, three Barbies, and a bottle of scented bath gel or 12. Bathing in there was getting treacherous.) I was also hoping to find a shower curtain for the kids' bath so that I could then find paint. I was looking around for--or at least be inspired by--some bedding for our master bedroom. I needed to head to Petco to get the dumb dog some food and tennis balls. All told, these errands should have taken me about an hour. Easy, right? Hit it and then get home and get busy, right?

Three hours, people. Three. And I have no one to blame but myself. I don't know why, but I can no longer make a decision. No, I must debate the merits and hem and haw and worry over the what ifs. Have mercy, Sara! It's a shower curtain, for the love of Pete! I think I took less time to decide my major in college than it's taking me to decide on a shower curtain.

I walked around looking at shower curtains longer than anyone should. When I found nothing to my liking, I headed to the bath caddies. And there, I found a wall full of them. This is why making decisions is so hard. I have too many choices. Do I want the floor to ceiling kind? Do I want the hang over the shower head kind? Do I want coated plastic? Stainless? Brushed steel? Copper colored? Three tiered? Two tiered? With or without hooks for washcloths? A saleslady walked by me three times while I was standing there and each time she asked me if I needed help. I do, but probably not the kind she was offering. Unless she has a degree in psychiatry. Then maybe she can help.

After finally making a selection (a three tiered, brushed steel, oversized caddy with slots for razors, hooks for scrubbies and washcloths, and suctions cups to help it stick to the wall!) I made my way to the bedding where I nearly burst into tears. Row after row of blankets, quilts, comforters, and duvet covers in every color, stripe, and pattern was there. And it was all quietly mocking me to just try to make a decision. Yeah. That didn't happen. I seemed to just sort of stumble around, glassy eyed and mutter things all while knocking stuff over with my giant, oversized shower caddy every time I turned around. (Carts. Who needs 'em?)

When I eventually made my way to the checkout, the saleslady--who managed to see and speak to me at least another six times--grinned at me, the way you would grin at someone whose elevator doesn't go all the way to the top floor--and said, "Finally made your way around the store, eh?" See? I was there for a while. Seriously, though. That place was like "Hotel California." They say you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.

It was like that every place I went. I took forbloodyever to make a decision and get what I needed. Also? At the bank, I forgot my own social security number. Sweet cracker sandwiches, I'm lucky they let me out unaccompanied!

So, no. I haven't done any purging or cleaning. The closets still need going through. Mary's room looks like a library exploded. My pantry has stuff in there from the Eisenhower era, and yo, I wasn't even born then, so that's saying something. Other than my family room, I have no window treatments anywhere in my house because I am paralyzed by indecision and the idea of all those windows is too overwhelming to think about so I just don't think about it. And the kids' bathroom is a special little circle of toothpaste encrusted hell which may require a jackhammer and some new drywall. There's plenty to be done, is what I'm saying.

But hey, at least if guests come over, I can show them the very well organized bottles of Axe in my lovely oversized, brushed steel shower caddy. That'll totally impress people, right?