Friday, January 17, 2014

It's not Him. It's Me.

When we first moved into this house two years ago, it made perfect sense to me to set up the bathroom so that I had the longer counter with the vanity cut out and to set up Wingnut with the shorter counter.  After all, being a woman with all the beautifying products I use, shouldn't I have more counter space?

Apparently not.  Now I do not mind in the least picking up after Wingnut.  He isn't as organized as I am and clutter doesn't get under his skin like it does mine.  He's a big picture kind of guy, whereas I notice all the little details.  I don't mind clearing the long counter of his collective junk each day, but over the last two years his stuff just kept encroaching until I had literally no counter of my own to use.  I had to put my makeup bag in the sink.  Seriously.

Call me dense, but it took nearly two years for me to come up with a solution that was better than moving his pile over to his counter in a fit of passive/aggressiveness, of which I am not proud.  The solution:  switch counters, of course.  Wingnut didn't really have a counter preference and he was perfectly good with my reorganization idea, as long as I carried it out myself.  As I moved our things from one side to the other, I came to realize that the shorter vanity has wider drawers.  Nice!  Marital harmony has been renewed.

The long . . . 

and short of it.

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