It’s winter. The world outside is wrapped in snow, and inside my kitchen… well. Inside my kitchen, a single drawer had quietly become a landfill with ambition.
You know the one.
The drawer where spatulas go to retire.
Where mystery lids gather in little gangs.
Where a whisk from 2014 still believes it has a purpose.
Today I had a rare little pocket of time—just enough to cook something quickly and not start a whole “deep clean my entire life” project. So naturally I did the most reasonable thing:
I opened the chaos drawer and chose violence.
Step 1: Pull Everything Out (and pretend it’s fine)
First rule of decluttering: it always looks worse before it looks better.
Second rule: don’t panic when you find seven wooden spoons, one bottle opener, and an entire collection of plastic containers that have never once met their matching lid.
I laid it all out on the counter like I was preparing evidence for a true crime documentary titled:
“The Case of the Missing Tupperware Lids.”
Step 2: The Keep / Donate / Goodbye Piles
I made three piles:
- Keep: the things I actually use
- Maybe: the things I think I use (but mostly just feel guilty about)
- Goodbye: duplicates, broken pieces, and the tools that only work if you have three hands and the patience of a saint
I found:
- a measuring cup with numbers worn off (✨a surprise every time✨)
- a bent whisk
- a lid that fit nothing—yet somehow felt emotionally attached to me
Goodbye, friends. We had… some time together.
Step 3: The Lid & Container Dating Show
Then came the big event: matching lids to containers.
It was basically speed dating:
- “Do you fit?”
- “No.”
- “Do you fit?”
- “Also no.”
- “Do you fit?”
- “Wait… oh my gosh. Is this… love??”
I paired what I could and let go of the rest. If a lid didn’t have a matching container, it left. If a container had no lid, it left. No more “maybe I’ll find it someday” energy. I am not running a lost-and-found.
Step 4: The Quick Wipe + Reset
Once the drawer was empty, I did a fast wipe (nothing dramatic—just crumbs, dust, and whatever that sticky mystery spot was).
Then I put things back with one simple rule:
Most-used items in front. Everything else earns its place.
Not a fancy organization system. No complicated dividers. Just… logic and mercy.
Step 5: The Tiny “Kitchen Needs” List
This is my favorite part because it saves future frustration.
I made a quick list of:
- what I tossed because it was broken
- what I’m missing
- what I keep borrowing from “other drawers” like a raccoon
Nothing huge. Just a little note for later, so I don’t keep re-living the same small annoyances.
The Result (and why it felt so good)
In the end, it wasn’t a full kitchen makeover. It was one drawer. One small reset.
But I swear… when the drawer slides closed without a fight?
When the lids actually stack?
When you’re not playing Jenga with measuring spoons?
That’s a tiny win that makes the whole kitchen feel lighter.
And honestly, in snowy winter days, I’ll take any “my life is slightly more together” moment I can get.
Next time? We’ll tackle the pantry packets and the baking stuff—the flour bags, the sprinkles, the mysterious pudding powders.
But for today, I’m calling this a victory.
Because I matched the lids.
And the lids… finally matched me back. 😄
