CLAUSTROPANTRYPHOBIA

I have a condition I self-diagnose as, ClaustroPantryPhobia.

As the food in the pantry accumulates and the pantry becomes increasingly smaller, I feel the world drawing in around me as well.

I'm serious for those of you giggling.

There is probably a clinical term for this; some sort of OCD maybe?

Today, the third day of having felt like I was squished, Honey I Shrunk the Kids-style, into our snack bin at the dark, far corner of the pantry and feeling bugs starting to eat at me, I broke free!

I had two loads of dishes, a small but daunting mountain of laundry, toilets that needed attending, to say the least, and my mind would not leave the pantry.

Hubby came home thinking I'd have the house all tidy and smellin' fresh for HIS party, to find that I had wedged myself into the groceries of weeks gone past and had some semblance of pantry organization on a forward roll.

He gave me (and the wrecked house) a look and mumbled something about, "working all day and have to come home and help clean house, blah, blah, blah"

I just hollered from the bottom of the canned good corner, "what'd you want, hon, can't hear you!?!" he,he.

I was actually in a good mood and not prepared to throw the towel of pantry bliss into the ring to have a stoopidfight.

Here we are, tonight, having organized the pantry AND accomplished all the Saturday chores.

And, it's only Friday. I'm totally STOKED. Nothing to do tomorrow.

If you believe that, I have a bridge to sell ya'.

I'm literally feeling like I released about ten years worth of tension from my shoulders.

I'm imagining what I'd feel like if I tackled the filing cabinet tomorrow.

Why is that? Am I really THAT weird? Someone please bale me out here.

Tell me I'm normal.

That's all I really want in life--tonight--validation that I'm a normal keeper of all things house.

If only all of life were as simple as taking a few hours to clean out the pantry.