I overrode all the negative chatter and I went to my happy place: T.J. Maxx. I slowly wandered the store with my short cart, no child in tow, no husband, just me and a coffee, sniffing candles and perusing sale racks. I realize it is consumeristic and a bit ridiculous to claim that T.J. Maxx is my happy place. And I assure you, when I was in labor with my daughter I was not envisioning the quiet, fluorescent-lit aisles as I breathed through a contraction. But T.J. maxx and its aisles of storage bins, linen sprays, and laundry baskets was just what the doctor ordered. I got handy-dandy containers to organize my pantry. Bins that hold canned goods! A cute little container for your sponge and scrubber that suctions to the side of the sink.
That time you swept and mopped your entire (tile) house from stem to stern and your toddler proceeded to spill the bucket of dirty water on said clean floors. And an hour later scattered the entire contents of a salt shaker around the house. And then peed on the bathroom floor for good measure. Ahhh, … Continue reading This is why I don’t clean.