But... I'm not quite sure. Sure, this could be nesting, but this also feels suspiciously like an ataxophobic panic attack after weeks of building anxiety (or is it weeks of building nesting instinct?). I want things to be tidy and clean and in order, but... I just... am having a hard time doing it.
Well, I got a few gifts for Pterodactyl this week, including TONS of hand-me-down clothing. I had already known that I didn't yet have a place set aside to put the baby things (my sister is living in the place we were going to put stuff), but I didn't realize that having a ginormous pile of stuff that didn't have a "home" would affect me so badly. I got overwhelmed and I ignored the pile for a few days. Then I built up the courage to take things out of boxes and... now there were two piles. Piles of packaging and piles of things that needed to be put away. For some reason I couldn't deal with it and left the piles.
Yesterday I broke into tears about it--think panic attack tears. It definitely hadn't helped that while James has been gone this week, I've been just as weak and energy-less as has been typical throughout pregnancy--and when I feel like that I tend to leave things lying around because I'm just so tired. So it's messy AND there are a million items out and about to stab your retinas.
Once I was panicky, my vision seemed to get distorted and magnified the presence of clutter, perhaps because I was desperate to find a place to put stuff. And then I had the following horrible feeling: I need stuff to put things in. I need drawers for baby clothes. I need a filing cabinet. I need more kitchen shelves for all the food sprawled all over the floor. I need... and I don't have money to buy any furniture.
And perhaps since I was already uber-bothered, the eccentricity of the clutter started eating at me. The busy pattern on the couch that completely clashed with the living room ate at my frontal lobe until the realization that I couldn't afford a slipcover for the sofa also began torturing me. And the rug in the bathroom doesn't match the rest of the room. The microwave doesn't match the rest of the kitchen. Yeah, it wasn't so good... especially because all these things I was now noticing (unlike the messiness) were things I was unable to change, at least at the present time.
I ended up freaking out a little more (both to myself and to James on the phone) before I did the smart thing and starting praying for comfort and such. It was then that I had an epiphany... and now it seems so obvious. Instead of getting more stuff to contain all the stuff I have, why don't I get rid of stuff until it's all contained?
Now, I couldn't bring myself to go outside in the heat, but I at least started stuffing things in trash bags. I got into my closet and asked myself: "When is the last time I used this?" Too many of my clothes elicited this response: "I hate every thread in this shirt. I use it only when I should have done laundry two months ago." Ah. Well, that shirt should clearly go to charity.
I came across my hat collection. It pained me, but I hadn't touched it in over a year. I barely touched it the year before that. ... Charity.
I came across several gifts I had always hated (but have kept because I'd feel guilty for tossing it... does everyone do this?)... Charity (or trash). I decided to keep only the following for sentimental value: wedding stuff and old letters. Oh, and a hand turkey that James made. I glued that in my journal at least, so it wasn't wandering free. Oh, and a gaudy picture frame I'd always hated? Epiphany! Paint it black and it'd go very well with the other picture frames in the living room. Genius.
Last night I got lots of stuff into trash bags or charity bags, but I didn't actually succeed in cleaning or actually clearing away any of the clutter. I felt better, though, perhaps because in my heart I knew all I really had to do was move lots of it to the dumpster or to the trunk of my car.
Today I cleaned the shower. Look at it in wonder. Ooooo, aaaaaaah... Okay, we're done. I'm exhausted from the effort, although I actually kind of enjoyed it. It's been hot for the last few days and we don't have air conditioning, so my nausea has been pretty bad. I really enjoyed the cold, cold water for a few hours. Refreshing. (Yes, the picture isn't properly focused, but I don't actually know how to work a camera...)
Well, if this IS nesting, then at least my apartment is benefiting from the madness.
Death to soap scum,
Jenna and Pterodactyl
P.S. Pterodactyl is doing well, and continues to grow. She's the right size, but I'm not growing that much. I didn't gain ANY weight in the last three weeks. I definitely need to try harder to swallow down food, aye? This nausea is making it hard. I'm having a hard time cooking lately, so any edible culinary donations are welcome. ;)
P.P.S. I'm not going to clean your apartment too. Edit: Except maybe if you pay me. See, I do REALLY want a sofa slipcover...
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