![]() | oh, cabinetry |
There is a cabinet in my bathroom. Well, there are a number of cabinets in my bathroom, but I want to talk about one in particular. So: Cabinet. Bathroom. It’s full of Useful Things, like spare toothbrushes and cotton swabs and cotton balls and a hairdryer and I don’t actually know what else. Stuff. It’s all piled in there precariously; opening the door is likely to cause a minor avalanche of deodorant bottles and unused packages of tooth whitening strips.
Every time I open that cabinet, I think: how hard would it really be to tidy this up? It’s all toiletries, mostly. They’re almost all in little rectangular boxes. But I never get around to it, because there’s always something else more important or more urgent to do at that moment. Like maybe applying the deodorant. (And look: right now I’m writing a blog post about not cleaning the cabinet instead of just, you know, cleaning the cabinet.)
It is possible that someday the minor avalanche will turn into a real avalanche—Dane will come home to find me either meticulously arranging the extra toothpastes, or unconscious underneath a mountain of said toothpastes—or perhaps one day my children will be grown and I’ll find that I have both time and energy to deal with things like unruly cabinets. Though I imagine I’ll never have difficulty finding non-cabinet-cleaning endeavors to fill my time. Even if those endeavors are mainly composed of sleep.
For today, I have decided that the messy bathroom cabinet will be a badge of honor: it proves that I have more important things to do than tidy cupboards that no one will ever see. (Can you hear the self-imposed pep talk behind that sentence?) When everything falls out and I have to clean it, it can be a badge of something else. Organization, maybe. A badge of organization. Or I guess it can just be organized. I probably have enough badges already.








You’d think that bathroom toiletries would be easy to organize, especially when they’re in said boxes, but you’d be wrong. We have an avalanchy pile of toiletries, too. Perhaps it’s in the nature of spare toiletries to be a mess. It’s very toiletry-ish of them.
Does anyone else see that profile pic? Why do I look like a botoxed bat-monster?
Note: I did not select that profile pic.
One of the many perks of the chaos that was remodeling is that we moved into a new bathroom, thereby leaving behind the old avalanche in the old bathroom. But it’s still there. And it’s probably not going anywhere, either.
Hey, what’s up with my profile picture?? Melissa-I think your blog is making aliases for us.
I’m here to see what crazy character I will be, and peruse da blog
What, you don’t like my blog-monsters?
WordPress can’t access your google/blogger profile pic. It does, however, see universal avatars (something like gravatar). In the absence of that, you get a randomly-generated monster. You used to get randomly-generated geographic icons, which were apparently so innocuous that no one ever noticed them. I thought the monsters had a little more personality. Maybe too much personality…
My entire house is something like your cabinet.
Don’t be fooled. I am not really as happy as I appear. In fact, I think I prefer those little monstery things.
I like the monsters, too. Though I’m always glad to see your shining face, Jen, whether you’re happy or fake-happy. Or not at all happy. That’s allowed too. (You’ll notice my picture is mostly of my hair, thus sidestepping the question of how cheery I may or may not be.)