My house smells like stale coffee.
Not that coffee can really get stale, since it’s a liquid, but you know what I mean.
Like coffee that used to be good, but now… isn’t.
It’s probably because of all of the grounds that get dumped after a fresh pot is brewed, and I know. I know I’m supposed to do something with them like compost or sprinkle them in my nonexistent garden to protect against rabbits or slugs or use it to do crafty things like stain furniture or give myself a fake tan, but come on.
I can only do so much.
I’m not one of those bloggers, you know, who just knows everything about how to do everything.
So I throw out the coffee grounds.
And it’s very likely that’s what makes my house smell like a past-its-prime coffee shop on a neglected street corner.
And also, I don’t dust or sweep nearly as much as I should. I’d like to say it’s because I believe that the inhalation of dander makes us stronger people, but really it’s just because I hate dusting and sweeping. So when a fluffy ball of reckless fur hastily retreats under the sofa in the breeze of my footsteps, I pretend not to notice. Bunny? What bunny?
I break things. And spill them. And overall make a general nuisance of myself, even when no one’s around to see it.
And sometimes I lose my temper.
In, like, a really embarrassing way because it usually involves electronics. Because when my printer pulls ten sheets of paper through the feeder or my computer decides to freeze mid batch photo edit, I become fairly well convinced that they’re doing it on purpose. They’re out to drive me mad. And of course, it works. It works for like five minutes while I yell and bang my fists and swear and make futile threats to throw them out the window until I realize that’s their game. A full-on adult tantrum is exactly what they want because they find it amusing. So then I stop. And usually the problem stops, too.
I don’t just humanize my electronics.
I feel bad for my toothbrush.
And the garbage bag full of old stuffed animals doing time in my dad’s basement.
I’d rather trap bugs and let them outside before outright killing them.
And unless it smells funky, looks funky, or I plan on serving it to company, I generally ignore expiration dates, and I haven’t pooper-scooped my back yard in at least eight months.
I constantly cross the easy stuff off my “to do” list while ignoring anything remotely difficult, because it makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something.
There’s more, but I think you get the idea. And I run this list through my head almost every day — every day — as these things are happening, constantly nagging about my flaws as a human, a woman, a wife. Wow, I can’t believe you just did that. Or, You’re such an idiot, or Dammit, why does your house smell like stale coffee? Do YOU smell like stale coffee? Is that what people think when you pass them on the street?
And you know what?
I give up.
I admit defeat.
I’m not a “Pinterest Mom” or an incredible “DIY Wife” or someone who can ever make anything look easier than it actually is, because glossing over life’s gritty details doesn’t make me feel like a better person.
But laughing at myself does. And trying — and failing — at something until it actually works does.
And looking in the mirror and telling myself that I look pretty today does.
Even when it makes me roll my eyes.