Today I fell back in love with my kitchen. For the last six months or so, I’ve become increasingly overwhelmed in it. I had purged a lot of things and nailed down some new organization systems (which my husband is really good at it ignoring), but still felt like I had too much in too little space. I also started to get paranoid that I could never get it clean enough (I grew up with a friend whose house was always really dirty, and it stuck with me), so combined with the crampiness, I started to lose some creative mojo.
Like any normal person, when I have an extra day off- like I did today- I clean*. This morning I took everything out of my kitchen and pantry. Everything. I swept, mopped, sprayed, wiped and scrubbed. Then, I spent the rest of the afternoon putting everything away- neatly.
I realized that there were still a lot of things I could get rid of, too. Like the big ass coffee pot my mom bought me to replace the small French press of mine that she broke. “I know you had a simple one because you rarely drink coffee, so here’s a fancy electric one you’ll never use.” Makes perfect sense.
Now I wish I hadn’t planned such a simple meal for tonight- steaks on the grill, baked potatoes, big salad- because I finally feel at one with my kitchen again instead of wanting to find a way to bring it to life so I could murder it.
*I truly do get a kick out of taking my time every now and then and cleaning the hell out of the place. Other times, though, there are at least a million things I’d rather do than a couple of dishes in the sink, much less getting wrist deep in toilet.