The everything drawer

I have lived on my own for almost 10 years now. Dorms, roommates and alone, at this point some of my habits are clear and I should own up to them. One of these is the everything drawer. On the surface I am very organized, if you were to visit me today you would find my desk is clear of clutter, so is my kitchen, the bedroom and the living room. The secret to this is that I put all my random ridiculous bizarre stuff in the everything drawer. Here is an example of what you will find there- a newspaper, ziplock bags, windex, spare keys to the car attached to keys of my last two apartments, curtain rings, one purple sock, an old tea bag, and an outdoor extension cord. This drawer does not have one function; it is spilling over with confusion and smells a little (I think I left some cheese in there once). I bet the other drawers make fun of this one, they all have a purpose and are pretty, while this here is unattractive and kept hidden.

My relationships are not simple; they are full of baggage from the past and underappreciated at times. But hey, where would I go if I needed someone to understand why I was mean to the parent whose daughter reminded me of my sister?

I am cleaning my French doors at 9 pm and having tea because I feel awful and I love cleaning. As the relationship grows in depth it grows a little dark.

Just a reminder to myself and you.

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

Theodore Roosevelt (Sorbonne in Paris in 1910).