I can’t tell you how deliriously happy this thing makes me. I started out by putting this image as the background on my computer. 
And then, I thought… how cool would it be to able to mark off the sheet daily and see my progress each day!
I’m a sucker for a checklist. 
So, I uploaded the page to a copy/print website place. Told them to blow it up, print it on a white foam  board with a dry-erase surface and put some hole-y things on the top and bottom.
(I did the whole thing online in like two minutes.) 
I picked it up the next day. Bought me some dry-erase markers and BAM. Stuck that joint on my kitchen wall where i have to see it ten times a day. 
Can I tell you the joy that comes with making those little check marks each day? 
Actually, I don’t have to tell you. Y’all know. 

(Oh. And the other day? My six year old put away her clothes and shoes. I did not even ask her to. Do you know why this miracle occurred? BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO USE THE DRY ERASE BOARD. For the win! For the win! For the win! For the win!) 

I can’t tell you how deliriously happy this thing makes me. I started out by putting this image as the background on my computer. 

And then, I thought… how cool would it be to able to mark off the sheet daily and see my progress each day!

I’m a sucker for a checklist. 

So, I uploaded the page to a copy/print website place. Told them to blow it up, print it on a white foam  board with a dry-erase surface and put some hole-y things on the top and bottom.

(I did the whole thing online in like two minutes.) 

I picked it up the next day. Bought me some dry-erase markers and BAM. Stuck that joint on my kitchen wall where i have to see it ten times a day. 

Can I tell you the joy that comes with making those little check marks each day? 

Actually, I don’t have to tell you. Y’all know. 

(Oh. And the other day? My six year old put away her clothes and shoes. I did not even ask her to. Do you know why this miracle occurred? BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO USE THE DRY ERASE BOARD. For the win! For the win! For the win! For the win!) 

I joined the #UFYH movement on December 23rd of last year. I declared my house officially UnFucked on January 20th of this year.
So it took a little less than a month to UnFuck my entire house.

Today, after a few weeks of bad weather, annoying kids and hellish work days, I looked up and saw that my house was Fucked. Every room. Not as bad as it would have been months ago. But still.

I took a deep breath. Set my timer. And got to it.

Two 45/15s. And my house was back to normal.

What took me one month last year? Took 90 minutes today.

i began my UFYH journey on December 23rd of last year. And it’s been a game-changer. 

What you see above is the last gasp. My husband’s invisible corner. Our invisible corners used to match. It was Jenga on both nightstands for years. 

I’m not with that bullshit anymore. I unfucked my side of the room. (And the other seven rooms of the house). So far so good. 

I have not asked my husband to pitch in with the cleaning yet. For years, I would go hard with cleaning, scream at everyone for not helping and they would just grin and bare it and ignore me until I fell off and became a slob again. 

So it will be a good long while before I ask my husband to start helping out with a 20/10 here and there. I want him to see I’m truly committed and this is forever. 

However. His nightstand is giving me hives. It’s the FIRST thing I see when I walk into his bedroom. It’s not like its his closet or some other area I can pretend isn’t there. It’s right there in your face. I don’t like it. 

And it keeps getting higher and higher and higher. 

Can I say something? Should I say something? What’s the conventional wisdom on getting your fellow slobs to start helping out? 

This is it. My entire house. All seven tiny rooms. All UnFucked. 

I joined the UnFucking movement on December 23rd, 2013. 

When I first started, I could NOT conceive of a time when I would be able to say the entire house was “normal.” (That’s what this is. Normal. My house has been cleaner on occasion. But there were always invisible corners lurking and those on-the-cusp messes that explode two days after you clean.)

It took me a week to get out of the kitchen and the bathroom. 

One day I came home from work and after cooking and such, my kitchen needed exactly 5 minutes to be UnFucked. 

I was ready to move on to other rooms. And I did so slowly, calmly. NO MARATHONS. I updated here and the encouragement I received kept me going. 

Fact: None of this would have happened without UFYH

Fact: I am different now. Am i clean and neat? No. Not by nature. Will my house look like this forever and ever amen? I don’t know. And it doesn’t fucking matter. What matters is that I know what I’m capable of. What matters is that I know that if my house ever gets SuperFucked again, I can rest assured that I can get back on track in a month, going super slow and with no marathons. 

I learned something core about myself in the past month. I am capable. Cleaning is not overwhelming. Well. I take that back. It is. And it probably always be. But I can do this. I can do a 20/10 each day and keep things from going crazy. 

I’ve also had a mental shift about what clean means to me. For years, I’ve been seeing my childhood home when I looked at my house. And all the marathons on earth won’t turn my house into my mom’s house. So even when I marathon-ed, it was never measuring up to the expectations I put on myself. This process has shifted my view.

THIS, these pictures you see? THIS is my house at baseline. If company is coming, sure, there’s stuff I could spiff up. And one day, my husband might deal with his Invisible Corner and our bedroom will look even better. But RIGHT NOW. At THIS moment, this is who I am. This is not my mom’s house. Or my best friend’s house. (Two homes where I would literally drop a cupcake frosting-side down on the kitchen floor and eat it with no hesitation ‘cause their floors are cleaner than my dishes after they’re washed.)

But this is me. At my very UnFucking best. This is who we are. My husband, my kids, my dog, my family. This is my home. And I’m proud of it. 

This is not a before and after. The first photo is my husband’s side of the bedroom. Also known as, The Only Invisible Corner Still Remaining In The House. The other picture is my side of the bedroom, formerly Fucked and now UnFucked.  

It’s only been a month since I joined the UFYH life. My husband is impressed and encouraging. But he ain’t down with the movement. 

And I feel weird mentioning it. For 14 years, we were slobs together. And he’s seen me go through marathons and start screaming at everyone to keep it clean. And then we all go back to being slobs again. So i don’t want to say, “Dude! What’s up with all this shit on your nightstand?”

At what point do I have the right to start insisting that he, (and my 16 year old and my six year old), start pulling their weight and join the UFYH movement?

Coming home to an unmade bed, (he leaves after I do), and this Invisible Corner is really depressing. But in his defense, a month ago we had seven invisible corners….

An UnFucking Epiphany

I wake up today and go through my daily UnFucking stuff. And get started on my weekly UnFucking stuff. All is well in the UnFucking Universe. I take a 10 minute break just now. And I see some challenges. I say, hmm. I’ve never done any of the UFYH challenges. Let’s go for it! 

Wait. UnFuck your bathroom? I did that two hours ago. Yay me. Okay, let’s see. UnFuck the kitchen. Did that too. And the stovetop and gross-food toss? Did that last Saturday. 

Wait. And my laundry is halfway done. The done stuff is FOLDED AND IN THEIR PROPER DRAWERS. 

What the fuck? I’m a true UnFucker? I’m no longer in triage? I’m in maintenance? And this could be like, a thing? 

Whoa. 

side note: the bed is not made. because there is a person in it. a person who will not get up until I am gone for the day. He will leave. And he will not make the bed. I will return at night. I will make up the bed and then immediately get in it. Which makes me sad each and every day. Alas. 

Dealing with more invisible corners. Ever since the challenge concerning invisible corners was posted, I’ve been trying slowly but surely to unfuck the corners of my house. I always have good intentions with the stairs. Line up the shoes nice and neat! Oh. But this mail can stay here for two seconds too. Wait. Does this box go upstairs? Let me just leave it here until I figure it out. Hmm. FInally unfucked the kitchen. What do I do with these random things? I’ll just put them on the stairs for now. Well that ended today. I will allow myself to store shoes there if necessary. But they have to find their way back to my closet eventually, (which should be easy since the closet is officially unfucked!). And I will try not to put anything but shoes on the stairs, like ever. That whole, take-it-upstairs-when-you-go is straight bullshit for folks like me. 

uneffthismessofmine

uneffthismessofmine:

So that messy room I was going to tackle today? This one:

image

I did indeed start. Yay! Go me! First things first, I stripped the bed and washed the sheets and the blankets and even a couple of the pillows and I Green Machine’d the mattress where it looked a bit gross. Okay, I’ve got a clean,…

I know this struggle all too well. Since I’ve joined the #UFYH community, I’ve been doing much better about not making things worse while I’m trying to make things better. The 20/10 is the key. But it sounds like you were marathoning your 20/10s, which ain’t good. When I sense I have two or three minutes left before break-time, I start assessing where I am and bringing things to a close as if it’s my last 20/10 of the day. Pacing is key. Go slower. And move slower even within your 20/10. The goal is to complete a 20/10. Not to get the area clean.  Looks wonderful by the way. 

This is SO much more than an invisible corner. 

This is the state of my financial health. My new debit card? In that pile. My student loan information? In that pile. Dozens and dozens of unpaid bills that make me want to hide under the bed for the rest of my life? In that pile. 

I’ve only been a member of the unfucking movement for a few weeks. But the very first time I unFucked a room, it was THIS area I knew would eventually be the holy grail. I couldn’t bring myself to do it the first week. Or the second.

But today, I did my daily cleaning. And I was done in twenty freaking minutes thanks to the unFucking movement. So there was nothing left to do but deal with this corner. 

It only took two 20/10s to get the area clean. But it took another four 20/10s to toss the junk mail and make some piles of OhShit call tomorrow, OhMan call Monday and OhWhatever call next week. 

I didn’t get a chance to file anything properly. The two bins there are holding everything neatly, waiting to be arranged and dealt with. 

Now I walk by this space and look forward to unfucking my finances. Wish me luck. 

P.S. I showed this pics to my husband. He said, when I look at this, the first thing I think is that all that stuff is on the other side of the table.  

I am quite sure the #UFYH community knows better. 

My office. Better known as the room where the clean clothes live for so long that they morph into dirty clothes. Every single time I end up with a room full of “clean” clothes in here, I have to end up re-washing 90% of it because they’ve become mixed up with dirty stuff. Until I learn to PUT MY CLOTHES AWAY, I will be doing this before and after for the rest of my life. Now. I have twenty loads of maybe-dirty clothes to wash. Again. 

P.S. I didn’t want to post these after shots here because they’re not after-y enough. I need to let that go too.