I am not “put together.”
Most days, I’m lucky to get out of the house with clothes on, much less looking stylish.
Most mornings I wake up later than I should. I run around like a mad woman dodging piles of clothes, squeaky toys, and misplaced dining room chairs.
I don’t plan my outfits.
I slap on minimal makeup.
My hair isn't always clean, and usually it’s simply tamed with a little hair spray.
Sometimes I forget to put on my deodorant.
Sometimes I forget to brush my teeth.
Today my bra doesn't fit. I decided to “try on” a new one amidst the morning rush. It “fit,” but now it’s agitating me so bad.
My pants have a hole near the zipper. Good thing I’m wearing a long sweater.
My baby was out of diapers this morning and I didn't realize it.
My craft room is not put back together from the leak we had fixed weeks ago.
My utility room is like a stress ball. It may give me an ulcer.
The list goes on.
Will ever “get it together?”