What's On YOUR Kitchen Table?

I truly believe that one of these days my house could look beautiful. I unabashedly admit that I have a pretty good eye for interior design. There have been many times that I've come up with some crazy idea that have made people shrink in fear at the sound of it, but once completed they've been quite pleased with the results. However...interior design is one thing. Cleanliness is entirely another.

My home will one day be beautiful. Today, however, will NOT be that day. I honestly don't know what the problem is. Let me give you a quick sampling of what my home is like at the moment. Here is a list of what is currently on my kitchen table. My kitchen table.

• 2 pairs of pajama pants and 2 t-shirts (but they are folded!)
• a twin pack of toothbrushes with one of the toothbrushes missing
• a can of bug spray
• a can of carpet deodorizer
• 3 empty cans of Vault and one 1/4 full 20 oz. bottle of Vault
• an automatic cat food feeder thingy (it's cute and pink though)
• a small bag of cat food
• birth control pills (yeah)
• 2 lighters
• a smattering of bills
• a travel size bottle of BOD spray for men (Really Ripped Abs scent - it smells great!)

So...this is just my kitchen table. This is not counting my kitchen counters, my coffee table, my entertainment center, my bathrooms, hell...just everywhere. And the thing is...G and I are the only ones that even USE the whole house!! Are we seriously that messy? Well, apparently we are. I can clean the heck out of this house and it seems like 2 days later it's in the same condition it was in before I cleaned it. It's like we have 3 kids or something! It's so hard for me to get motivated to keep it straight and clean when I'm hurting all the time and it's just going to get friggin' messy again.

I seriously wish I could be like Martha Stewart and wave my magic oven mitt and make it all go away. I really do want the kind of house that looks so beautiful and put together and can just be so wonderfully inviting that I can invite 30 people over at 5 minutes notice.

But...I'm not Martha. I'm Mary. And I have pajama pants on my kitchen table. Sue me.