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Monday, August 15, 2011

The Suffering Has Ended!

I can't stand it any more, I have to blog. I lost sleep the other night just wondering if maybe I'd forgotten how. Then I lost some more sleep writing out practice blog posts in my head just so I could prove to myself that my brain still functioned in blog-mode. I'm still not sure, but I'm giving it a whirl. Hopefully there's at least one person out there who will read this and let me know?

So, I have to tell you all that I am cured! I know, I've been gone so long that none of you knew I was even suffering at all, let alone from several different seemed-like-chronic diseases. Today, I would like to report that all of them have disappeared without a trace, and it's kind of amazing. I now have a (mostly)clean bill of mental health. (Mostly. I do still have four children, so there are bound to be moments).

Naturally you're all dying to know what was ailing me, and how I've been cured, and naturally I'm about to tell you. It all comes down to one cause, and one glorious cure-all. I'VE MOVED!!!! I NO LONGER LIVE IN THAT OLD, ONE BATHROOM, TWO BEDROOM HOUSE!!!! AND MY NEW HOUSE IS BRAND NEW!!!!!

Like I said. Glorious. It's really the only word.

And now I no longer suffer from messifloritis. Messifloritis is something that one suffers from if one has seriously insufficient closet space in one's bedroom. It is a very serious disease. (Particularly if one also suffers from another disease known as luvofclothitis, which I unfortunately happen to have a rather severe case of). Messiforitis causes one's bedroom floor to be constantly strewn with clothing that has no where else to go. It causes one's husband to kick one's clothing into the corner every so many days - usually after the strewn becomes the piled - and that generally causes friction in one's marriage. Especially if the 'strewn' or 'piled' clothing had been strategically and carefully placed to avoid wrinkles, and aid in the locating of specific articles. Kind of like a personal filing system for clothing on the floor.

But now, thanks to my new WALK IN CLOSET!!!!!, this is no longer a problem. In fact, it has recently been revealed that He - as in the former clothing-kicker - is actually way more guilty than previously thought. It seems now that my clothes aren't taking up so much of the available floor space, the ones he leaves lying around are way more prevalent. But I try to be patient. And I try to pretend that if he had more closet space of his own he wouldn't suffer from messifloritis either. (Even though it's common knowledge that he never uses a closet for anything but hunting gear).

I also used to suffer from tripthruthedorococcus. This particular disease is even more dangerous, because it puts not only the sufferer, but the immediate family members at risk of injury or death. Tripthruthedorococcus is something you're at risk for if you have only one door through which to enter your house (because the other one can only be opened from the inside), and insufficient closet/coat storage/shoe storage space once inside your door.

The injuries connected to this disease are sustained by constantly tripping and/or breaking your ankle on all the dropped possessions and kicked off shoes that surround the area just inside the door. The death-risk comes in to play for those children (and spouses) responsible for leaving the articles lying on the floor that caused the mother to trip and/or injure herself.

(*Note: I did once discover another partial cure for this disease, but it required giving all children one swat for each article left lying around. It definitely helped, but finally I got tired of the beatings, so I gave it up and went back to risking my sanity.)

The last disease I'll mention here (because there just isn't time to list them all) is cramitin syndrome. This one is easy to diagnose. All you need to do to find a case of CS in your own neighborhood, is drive down the road and look for houses with no garage, or other outdoor storage facility. Anywhere you see this difficiency you know you've found a sufferer.

When one doesn't have a garage (or shed, or shop, or four poles and a tarp) it is really very sad. The suffering here is very, very real. Especially if one's husband is a carpenter and has lots of tools. Or is a hunter and has lots (and lots, and lots) of hunting gear. Or has other hobbies - like canoeing, fishing, weight lifting, etc - that all require gear storage. All of these things seriously heighten the impact of cramitin syndrome.

Said impact is found throughout the house (i.e. every available closet, drawer, corner, etc.), and finally - in advanced cases - the front porch and outlying areas begin to reveal symptoms. It isn't pretty. We managed to hide this disease for several years, but after the dog house, the table saw, and the chain saw came into the picture (not to mention the canoe), hiding our sickness became impossible.

And if one should one actually try to mix four children and a dog into this mix, the results are horrifying. The symptoms quickly escalate into full blown, sanity-threatening, stage four CS, and even one's neighbors begin to suffer second hand symptoms of the disease.

But now, thanks to my wonderful new house (which, if you click here and select plan number 2576you can take a virtual tour of, minus the amazing laundry room we added in place of the back porch, and the extra TEN FEET we added to the garage), I am free. Free from all my old house induced sanity-threatening diseases, and life is rather wonderful. I have done so much complaining about my old house (like in this post) that it seems sharing this good news is the least I can do to any of you who had to hear me complain before. I've actaully felt seriously guilty these last four months knowing that possibly some of you might still be praying for my suffering to end.

It's ended people! I have space! I have THREE TOILETS! (remember how bad the one toilet situation had become? I could have dedicated an entire post to the signs and symptoms of that disease). And I can honestly say that this blessing has met every single hope and expectation I ever had. Like I said, it's glorious.