the potential in mess

just a quickie. because i walked into the house, with a gorgeous outfit, freshly splurged on and ready to dazzle for justine and ricky's engagement party come saturday night, and i was feeling rather put together. we're talking, matching shoes and belt, ladies and gents. i got serious at chadstone. anyway. i fashion paraded it for the mother (mandatory in my family), and we were both feeling quite chuffed with my selection. and as i journeyed home, i mused over this new sense of sophistication and how sheer black pantyhose can really make you feel grown up and ladylike. i was, indeed, so busy musing over this fact in wonderment that i felt rudely and abruptly interrupted when i walked into this:



and this:


and this:

the kind of mess that stops you in your tracks. where loungerooms have become a giant drying rack and studies are merely a storage facility for gig gear and kitchens are covered in freshly washed dishes (turns out, these things don't put themselves away...)

anyway. after my horrified face returned to its previous state of put-togetherness and sophistication, i had a giggle. and i took some pictures. and i looked at the bench in the study and saw the potential for a clean, immaculate situation there. i mean, the books are stacked in height order, and the filing system in the shelves works (but for that we would use it a bit more...).

and the mess in the lounge? all those clothes? i saw the potential for a drawer full of clean, fresh-smelling socks. and the potential to be choosing my favourite pair of undies come morning, instead of the bottom-of-the-pile dregs i've been dealing with for the past two days.

anyway, you get the picture. i'm dragging on. the kitchen mess means we can make good food again, we get it. shut up now. ok i will (but stop being so rude please).

seriously though, every now and then, it helps to be able to look up from the mess and see the potential of what lies within the mess. sometimes literally, like tonight, but moreso in a metaphorical way, ya know?

and that, my friends, is how you turn a quickie post into a very very long one.

sayonara. (ok really, stop now.)

-- R.