Making progress...

I woke up this morning with a splitting headache and a fairly all-around grumpy mood. But I was determined that today was going to be the day that I got my crap together and got this house whipped back into shape. And it just kind of went down hill from there. I could probably go on for two or three paragraphs listing just what all went wrong from my point of view, including the fact that after over twelve hours straight of clean, dejunking and organizing there is still not one room in this house that is completely clean. Or that I completely lost my cool around hour three and kicked my family out of the house. (Um, stressed much? What a great example...) Or that I backed Brian's car into the van. (Not fast enough to do any damage, except to my much beleaguered psyche.)

But instead I'll just relate the best thing that happened today. I found the last letter my mother wrote me before she died. I have been looking for it for over a year and a half and was in agony, afraid that I had somehow thrown it away, either by accident or during the first year after she passed when I was going through some serious depression. It was stuck in between some old Ensigns that I was sorting through. (Okay, that is one thing I accomplished to day. All of my church magazines are now in chronological order. Hmmm, maybe it's not that surprising that I don't have a room completely finished...) I read it, and cried, and read it a couple more times, and put it somewhere safe where I'm not going to forget I put it, again. I guess it's okay if it takes me a long time to sort through everything. At least that way I'm not going to lose a treasure by being too hasty.