I’m warning you. There’s a lot of pictures in this post. It was a beautiful day, I had the window open in the laundry room (don’t tell my husband—the air was on too), and I was appreciating my newly organized cabinets.
To be honest, they kind of already looked like this. However, all the turquoise bins used to be yellow. I was over the yellow. Thank the heavens for spray paint!
I’m pretty sure I’ve declared my love for bins and labels before, before, and before. Oh, and before. And before. Gees.
I typed up all my categories on some thick cardstock, punched a hole, and threaded some coordinating ribbon through. Oh, how I love some cute ribbon.
You may see a couple of bins with no label on them. Everyone stay calm. There is no need for alarm. I have since labeled them all and everything is right with the world again.
I mean, had I not labeled this basket “cleaners”, no one would ever know that there are, in fact, cleaners in there. Right?
All of the bins came from the dollar store—including the yellow change basket below. He must have been hiding from my spray paint. I’ll get him. Don’t you worry.
When your complexion is so fair that your skin starts to boil within 10 minutes of exposure, and when your backyard is an apartment complex for mosquitoes, you too will have a bin dedicated to summer. And you still won’t have enough supplies.
Just when I was thinking no one was around to enjoy the fruits of my labor, a friend of mine called and asked if she could do a load of laundry at my house (no joke!—she’s here from out of town). I {gleefully} said yes. As she was opening the cabinets for the detergent, I was standing there feeling pretty darn cool about myself.
As I walked into the other room, my husband looked at me and said, “You’re feeling pretty darn cool about yourself right now, aren’t you?” Husbands.
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