On March 17, 2012, as I was out getting my nails done to get ready for my friend’s wedding later that night, Stephen started tearing out part of a wall in our kitchen to open it up to the family room. Little did we know that the next day would be the day I fractured my spine. That was nearly 18 months ago. The kitchen is still an unfinished, half-demo’d zone of destruction.

And, Stephen ripped out two bathrooms. To the studs.

cough *overzealous* cough

One is almost put back together. The other one now has sheetrock. As in, as of last week.

We weren’t planning on selling our house when all of this work started. We thought Stephen would be able to finish it. He’s pretty handy that way.

We were wrong. Now we’re mid-remodel, he won’t be able to finish it in this decade and we’ve decided we’re going to sell our house.

Dear. God. Help. Meeeeee!

Stephen’s done an awesome job on what he’s been able to do. But, he’s just one man. One. Man. With limited energy after putting in an 11 hour work day.

And he sliced open his hand last weekend on some glass, ironically while doing dishes, requiring a trip to the ER and stitches. So there’s that.

We’ve thrown our hands up in the air and have called in the big dogs. Plus, I think he’s exhausted. I feel bad for him, really. And I can’t help because of my back. I can’t bend down to paint, I can’t lift anything heavier than 10 pounds. Essentially, I’m worthless in the helping out department.

So a construction crew is going to finish it up. And we’re going to hemorrhage cash. And we’re fortunate to have the option to do so.

In the meantime, while going back and forth on bids, picking out tile, trying to get actual work done for my clients, etc., I’m going to declutter the kitchen. Because I can control the kitchen.

This was not in the original plan and I’m not a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of gal. I’m having issues. I get cranky when I feel like things are spiraling out of control and, on top of that,  I’m in pain. Actually, cranky is being generous. I turn into a raving be-yotch.

Back to the kitchen. This is the cabinet to the left of the microwave, above the cooktop:

I went through everything, tossing cough drops that expired two years ago, prescription cough syrup from 2009 and a variety of other random medications that never got used. Where I could, I emptied the contents and recycled the containers. I’m trying not to think about all of the trash headed to the landfill. It makes me ill.

Also in the cabinet were five thousand air freshener things:

Pretty sure I don’t need them, but I’ll leave the final decision for another day. At least they are all in one bowl. I found two other ceramic bowls that I haven’t used in nearly five years so they went to the donate pile.

Here is the cabinet after:

The top shelf is a small plastic bin that houses some chewing gum. (It’s up high because not long ago the kids left it out, the dog got into it and a $500 emergency animal clinic visit resulted.) The middle shelf holds the air freshener things, for now. The bottom shelf holds medication that isn’t expired. Mostly for the kids.

Just looking at that makes me feel better. Even if only for a minute.