Staying Optimistic until Something Goes Wrong

I think there is something important about a person having their own space. Not everybody will own land and a house, but having a place that is available for retreat is something everyone needs to have. A place to get away. Mine is my room. It’s my comfort zone. Don’t put your feet on my pillow, they belong at the other end of the bed. Let’s not move everything around, I put it where it is, it belongs there. I have too much stuff, too many books, more clutter than I want, but it works for me. It isn’t that it’s messy, there’s just more stuff than you would expect encompassed in this amount of space. But to me, it is comfortable.

Outside the French doors to my room is a wholly different scenario. You see, in the wake of Christmas-time at the Brannon’s, there are, outside the house, a few patches of snow which prove our whitest Christmas since re-locating to Georgia, and inside the house, chaos. It seems that in return for time off from work, Brannon’s will, no matter the actual season, clean like it’s the spring. The new toys each has accumulated has left their new owner with two options, 1) stack the new version on top of the old version and call it a day or 2) reorganize everything so that it will all fit together nicely. For me, stacking a new pair of jeans on top of the old jeans is exactly what I’ve chosen to do, but when you end up with a new TV, I understand the need to reorganize a bit.

Anyway, it’s a bit chaotic around here. And to the point where my comfort zone is being threatened, and it’s… uncomfortable.

... but I'm listening to good music, and I'm almost to bed for the night. Staying positive.