I love a clean house. Rarely do I have one, but I love it. I love the feeling of walking through a room, not having to stop to pick a tissue, out of place toy, random shoe, underwear or other such item. I love the smell and the way it relaxes me. It's a joy, and I indulge in it. Therefore, when I get to have the euphoric high of a clean house, nothing irritates me more than finding something little that I skipped over.
For example, just this week I swept, mopped and wiped of every surface in my kitchen. I stepped back to take a look at my masterpiece and smiled. I turned to walk away and CRUNCH. Immediately my heart sank. "Why" I wondered. Seriously, where did the mysterious crunchy object (that haphazardly ended up in the CENTER of the kitchen) come from? Seriously, I was in awe at how this tiny object had not been seen by my meticulous vision. Craziness or a conspiracy, I'm still trying to figure it out!
(This is NOT a photo of my kitchen...it's too messy!)
For example, just this week I swept, mopped and wiped of every surface in my kitchen. I stepped back to take a look at my masterpiece and smiled. I turned to walk away and CRUNCH. Immediately my heart sank. "Why" I wondered. Seriously, where did the mysterious crunchy object (that haphazardly ended up in the CENTER of the kitchen) come from? Seriously, I was in awe at how this tiny object had not been seen by my meticulous vision. Craziness or a conspiracy, I'm still trying to figure it out!
(This is NOT a photo of my kitchen...it's too messy!)