My Confession

Here's my confession. . . when I look at pictures posted on Facebook, I don't just look at the gap-toothed grins, great dinners that look awesome, or the newest beer find. I'm looking at the backgrounds of pictures, and I'm either happy or sad. 

I find joy in the piles of paper, school assignments that can't be parted with, random cups, bowls, even cleaning products on counters and tables. Squeaky clean countertops as smooth, clear, and expansive enough to land a small plane make me sad. 

I'm a crap house keeper. No, that's not true. I've given up in the presence of those who don't care. I just can't keep up. So when I see others who have even a momentary lapse of cleanliness, my heart soars, and I consider those individuals my people (insert solidarity fist fist bump here). I can't tell you how many pictures I haven't posted or frame because lurking in the background were finished loads of laundry on the table, a crockpot I hadn't gotten around to putting away, or the latest art projects pasted on the walls. Sorry for all you cleanies, but until the kids move out or I finally beat order into them, I'm going to have to consider your ways abnormal and unnatural. It's al about survival, yo, and that starts in the brain.