Kat’s Kitchen Boilover

As Kat stood in her kitchen, she was still mad with Violet after being tricked into watching Space Invaders. Violet had even tried to sign her up for the show!

Kat was sad that Kylie and Tiffany had moved away. She missed spending time with them. It wasn’t fair that they chose to leave.

But Bill was still there, getting underfoot and leaving all the housework to her. He’d even refused to cook dinner on the barbecue lately. He said it was getting too cold to be outside in the dark.

There was so much to dust. Doing the dishes was getting harder to do with nowhere to put them away. The laundry was constantly piling up and never seemed to find its way into drawers. And she didn’t have any clear bench space in the kitchen for preparing the evening meal.

She felt alone. She felt the walls closing in on her. But what could she do? Everyone said they wanted to help but really, they just wanted to make her throw out her stuff.

She tried to go through a few kitchen drawers and cupboards on her own, but the task just seemed overwhelming. Whenever she started, she just created more piles, mostly of things to decide on later. She felt that getting her house under control was actually getting further out of reach.

Then she remembered Jane, the professional organiser she’d worked with a while ago. Jane had been patient. She listened. She didn’t try to chuck Kat’s stuff out. Maybe that was the answer.

Kat felt a resolve as she dialled the phone. She felt relieved when Jane remembered her and was friendly. It was like talking to an old friend. She felt hopeful that Jane really was the answer to her problem. But then her hopes sank. Jane was fully booked for months ahead and couldn’t fit another appointment in. Kat wondered whether it was just that she didn’t want to work with her after the last time.

Devastated, Kat turned to the internet. She typed “get organised” into the search engine and found a site that boasted “1008 Professional Organisers in your area”. Bingo! Why hadn’t she thought of that before. And even better, they charged less than Jane did. Kat wrote up a quick job ad with the heading “Organise my house” and hit the send button. Within an hour she already had five responses. She chose the one who could come the next day and went straight to the bank to get cash to pay.

The next morning Kat awoke with that feeling of hope again. She didn’t expect the day to be easy, she knew there might even be tears. But after working with Jane, she knew what to expect. The pain would be worth it.

The doorbell rang and there stood a young woman with a big smile. She carried a basket with a label maker and some coat hangers in it. The young woman introduced herself and said, “I hope it’s ok that I parked in the driveway. I have some boxes in my van for the stuff.”

As Kat opened the front door as wide as it would go, the young woman came in and then just stood there, mouth gaping. She said, “Oh you didn’t say you were a hoarder. But don’t worry, I know what to do. Let’s start with your wardrobe”.

Kat was taken aback. This was certainly different to how Jane had arrived. “What do you mean? I’m not like those people on TV. And why the wardrobe?”

“I always start with the wardrobe first. That’s what Marie Kondo says.”

“But I’m not ready to work in my bedroom. I thought we could begin in the kitchen. I don’t have anywhere to cook at the moment.”

The young woman seemed unsure but followed Kat down the narrow hallway with all its piles and boxes, and into the kitchen. She looked around at the benches piled with cooking appliances, both clean and dirty dishes, cookbooks, vitamin bottles and wine bottles. Then she looked down at the floor with shopping bags in all corners of the kitchen, some in front of the cupboard doors. Finally, she looked over at the stove. One burner was visible. The rest were somewhere underneath what appeared to be recipes torn from magazines sitting on top of a wooden board.

“What shall we do first?” asked Kat.

“I’ll have to go and get something from my car.”

The young woman picked up her basket and walked back down the cramped corridor and out the front door. Next thing Kat heard the sound of a van starting up and reversing out of her driveway. She was confused. She called the young woman’s phone number. “Where are you going?” Kat asked.

“I told you. I don’t work with hoarders.”

Kat couldn’t decide whether to cry or scream, or both. Frustrated, angry, embarrassed, Kat slumped in her favourite chair and felt the tears on her red hot face. Another person has left her in the lurch. Well, at least she was right about one thing. There were tears.