I chose the simpler solution, rather than the perfect one, because there were other things to be done. And somehow, it was enough.
I went from making lunches to leaving lunch ingredients to assuming my kids could mostly manage their own lunches. And no one starved, because somehow, it was enough.
I spent years working fairly comfortably, and years unemployed rather uncomfortably. So, these days, I am grateful for both work and time. And somehow, what I end up with is enough.
I cook when I can, and order when I need to. And somehow, either way, we sit together and eat. And it is enough.
Cleaning what will always be too much stuff in too little space may always be impossible. But we straighten, and eliminate, and try to stay ahead of things. And somehow, it is enough.
How it is may be nothing like how it was, or how I thought it might be. But somehow, how it is turns out to be is enough.