Maybe Next Year

My main goal in 2022 was to clean out my enormous bedroom mess. There is a stack of boxes beside my bed which is now under a pile of stuff. Pieces of a variety of things stick out their tongues and irritate me. In September I said, “I will get this cleaned up and out by October.” In October I had a thousand other things to do for cleaning is not fun. This pile has extended out into the pathway to my bed. I am slipping now. I will clean this rat hole up during Thanksgiving break I promised myself. Cooking did not get done either. Husband and I both had the flu. At least I have fifteen days off for winter break, I reassured myself. Agreeing to sort for one hour a day. That lasted all of eighteen minutes. This is 2023. Today I slid on the pile, because it is monstrous now. Maybe next year, I tell myself. Not in the cleaning mood once again.