Recently my motivation to clean and organize has completely vanished.
This morning my husband and I stayed in our jammies past noon. We hibernated on the couch while we binged on Netflix.
There is puppy fur on the floor, dispite my constant vacuuming. My desk has exploded. There is a pile of laundry a mile high.
Yet on the couch we stayed.
My classroom is starting to get a tad messy too. I have master the art of paper stacking.
How is it possible for me to love the chaos of a mess, while having a panic attack?
I need to clean. Maybe tomorrow?