Making Time to Breathe

Well, it took three weeks, lots of frustration, and the combined assistance of my mom and little sister, but I can now open my front door to someone without feeling the need to step out and close it behind me. This project went way beyond cleaning - we took apart rooms completely, then put them back together as if moving in again for the first time, asking, ''Now that we know what DOESN'T work, what kind of storage/arrangement will work BETTER?'' It does no good to put things away when they have no place to really go. Massive quantities of STUFF have departed our little house, and many lidded plastic boxes have arrived, for the purpose of giving every category of thing a Place To Be. A place for everything, and everything in its place. At long, long last. Just in time, too, as I discovered a leak in the kitchen just last Thursday, and was able to simply mention it to the landlord and get it fixed, instead of trying to fix it myself because of not wanting anyone to enter The House Of Doom.
And now I am starting from lovely Square One, with a binder designed to keep the whole place this clean. I have a sheet for each day of the week, we sat down and listed everything we could think of, ranked them as daily, weekly, or monthly chores, and now each day of the week lists the daily things (it's a short list, to my surprise) and whatever weekly job has been assigned to that day. The sheets are in page protectors, so I can use dry erase markers to mark things off as they're done, and for the first time since Kittyboy was born, I can sit and read a book without feeling like I'm wasting time. Because that's exactly what I have now - time.
Speaking of the Kittyboy - his room is next.