I have come to the conclusion that I must have a touch of OCD. We are in the process of a small scale kitchen remodel. It started in August with promises of actual work being done in October. Well, the work started a week ago. So the stress of getting it started was already pressing. But the actual stress of not having a usable kitchen is a million times worse for me.
Some of you know that I am a fairly neat person. I try to keep the dust off the furniture and cobwebs off the ceiling. Here in Texas, that is not an easy feat. I have been known to pick up toys and put away clutter and I have even cleaned the bathrooms. Generally, the biggest challenge of my household chores is the clutter. I like for everything to be in its place and when you live with a 31 year old man, 9 year old boy and 22 month old toddler, it can be challenging to keep up with the clutter. At this moment, my whole down stairs is consumed with clutter. It has swallowed up every inch of space. You can not see the tops of my dining room table or kitchen table. The dining room floor is covered. My coffee table is even burdened with the clutter. All of this clutter is the contents of my kitchen which makes it worse because everything was clean when it was taken out of the kitchen. Now that it has been sitting out in random places of the house for toddlers, husbands, children and dogs to "play" with, I feel the need to wash it all before it goes back. But that task is not really the source of my angst. I think the combination of the clutter and the fact that I can’t open the refrigerator, or use the sink really brought me to a whole new stage of anxiety. Although I did not know it until it actually became my reality- this is clearly one of my worst nightmares.
People told me that it would be hard to be without the kitchen. I am sure they even said things like you won't be able to cook, clean dishes etc.. But all of their warnings to me just didn't register. I guess the idea of not being able to use my kitchen was so unfathomable that I blocked out all of these "negative comments". As I look back on these conversations, I realize that I was obviously listening with filtered ears. And now that I am experiencing this elevated level of anxiety, I don't know that I could have heard it any other way.
When I walk into my house, I can't even think. The kitchen remodel is messing with my already abnormal degree of insanity. Nothing is getting done-even things that I could do with out the kitchen. I just can't bring myself to think a clear thought. All I can see is the clutter. Christmas is barely coming together. My parents are here on Tuesday and we can't find the granite guy. My contractor thinks he must be out of town. And the clutter is still there- forcing me to escape into the dark recesses of my conscience. To a place where I can forget about the clutter. Unfortunately, I forget about everything else while I am there. So I ask you to pray for me. Pray for the granite guy. And most of all pray for my family as they cope with a mentally absent wife/mother/taxi driver/maid/nurse/social organizer. If we can’t find the granite guy before Christmas, I may seek professional help.