I have a good excuse for not posting this one last night, but it’s a little bit embarrassing so I’m going to think about whether or not to tell you while I write about my Day 5.
Day 5 took longer than I thought it would, but it’s something that was bothering me for a long time. We always enter our house through the garage door, which means we walk through the laundry room to get in the living area. So having a messy laundry room for me immediately set a negative tone from the minute you get home.
It’s a room the we spent -0- dollars on when we built the house. No cabinets, my old washer/dryer, no paint… very plain and boring. And even though it may not look THAT bad, it was actually pretty crammed with stuff.
The bottles and boxes were all two-deep, and mostly it was a bunch of stuff that was never even used. A bunch of old cleaners and empty boxes.
So here’s my after:
All of the dog leashes are gone, the half-empty detergents were combined into like bottles and the rest discarded. I brought a few of the sample sized ones down on the dryer to be used first so I could get rid of them as well. I emptied out the lint basket and everything just feels more tidy now.
So, that didn’t take as long to write out as I thought it would and I haven’t quite worked up my nerve for this story yet. But here goes.
My plan was to write out this post after we got back from dinner with my parents. Unfortunately, my brain took over last night and I was way too sick to post.
Here’s something you don’t know about me: I am afraid of vomit.
Gah! I hate that “V” word!
Well, before we went out to dinner, I called my sister so we could formulate a plan for the evening and pick a restaurant. She informed me that my brother in-law was puking that morning and that she was beginning to not feel well either.
Even though they both said that it was probably because they had a drink or two the night before, I just couldn’t handle it. BIL looked totally fine at dinner and said he was feeling ok as well. My sister on the other hand barely ate her food and was all, “I just don’t feel good.”
So I got myself so psyched out about the fact that they “potentially” could be sick and that I “potentially” could catch it, that by the time we were driving home I was already feeling icky.
I knew I wasn’t sick, but I was so afraid of throwing up that I actually had my first ever panic attack.
I called Shane upstairs and made him stay with me because I couldn’t stop shaking! My legs were shaking, I guess like a convulsion? I don’t know what the heck was going on. My heart was racing. I had to pace back and forth in the bedroom because I was convinced that I was going to throw up. This went on for probably 2 hours! Basically I was acting like an insane person. No joke. I shook so much that when I woke up this morning my legs felt like jelly and my muscles were sore.
So that’s incredibly embarrassing, but the honest to goodness truth. I am afraid of vomit.