Perfection

So, I couldn't help but notice, after re-reading some of my posts, that I use the word "perfect" a lot.

But, really, the only thing I want out of this is fulfillment - not perfection. I want to come home at night and feel like I can live my life without worrying that I'm neglecting something or someone else. I want to have time to do everything I want to do. If that means scheduling fun time, so be it. I want to know that in that moment, I can do whatever I please. Scheduled chaos!

Sounds impossible.

Maybe it's just that I need to get my life to the point where I can completely fall off the Lysol Wagon, stop cleaning for a week, and not have my apartment completely fall apart - a schedule that I can keep up but that I can abandon and rediscover/redefine as needed.

That's my idea of "perfect" - a schedule that works for me and doesn't hold me down.

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I went to my grandmother's house last night, and it was so put together. Everything was in its place, easy to find, and clean.

She was so organized. She even said, "Pick out something in the house to have when I die." -How's that for having your ducks in a row?

She picked out something for me - a beautiful cobalt blue glass bowl and candle holders. They were so beautiful, my nesting instincts kicked in, and I wanted to clean the entire apartment to find the perfect place for them.

It made me want to go through everything I own and get rid of all the odds and ends that just don't matter - and hold onto the really special things - another task to add to the To Do list!