I’m the kind of person who can’t fall asleep very easily if there are dirty dishes in the sink, or if there’s laundry in the dryer that needs to be folded (and put away).
I’m the kind of person who makes her bed every morning because of a long-held belief that an unmade bed will set me up for a bad day.
And, I’m the kind of person who functions the best when the details of my life — that I’m able to control, at least — are fully managed, and everything in my little world is tight and tidy.
I must confess to you that at this point in my story — right after my solo return to Utah, and, after that stressful New Year’s Eve party — the only things I recognized about myself were the facts that all of our dishes were clean and put away, all of our clothes were ironed, hung or folded, and, the bed I had created by stacking our mattress on top of two box springs was always made in the morning.
Other than that, the Sonja that I was at that time was fading out, and wasting away.
