Lately, I’ve been on this kick of trying to figure out how to organize myself. I’m happy to report that I’ve done well in some areas, however I’ve failed miserably in others. Such is life. I don’t know how organized people do it. Maybe they just look like they are living organized lives.
Some days as I’m on my way home, I drive by those lovely homes with fall decorations all set up outside and think how nice it would be to do that to my home some day. Then my squirrel brain starts thinking about how did those people find the time to do all that decorating? I wonder if both people work full-time? Do they have kids? Are their kids involved in school activities? How much did all that stuff cost? Geez-Louize that stuff has got to cost a lot! So, not only do they have to run around on their days off and in between school activities to buy the expensive decorations, they have to spend their time at home putting that extravaganza together. For what? For the three or four days when it’s actually fall? Will they keep all that stuff up til Thanksgiving? Where do they store all that stuff? I’ll need more storage space if I do that at my new house. I don’t like fall anyway…it’s the beginning of winter and I hate winter. OMG…if they do all this for fall, I wonder what lengths they go to for Christmas? What about the other holidays? Valentines Day? St. Patrick’s Day? Easter? Does it end? Again – where do they store it and where do they get the time and money???
Ummm…yeah, that’s just on my way home from work…
So, now you get why I really need to organize my life, right? At this point, I have three planners (one that I’m currently trying REALLY, REALLY hard to use faithfully and failing hard), four calendars (planner, phone, computer, desk) and I still can’t manage to keep my doctor appointment that I’ve had to reschedule for three months in a row. I have post-it notes scattered on my desk in lasagna layers – one pink layer (meat), one orange layer (cheese), one yellow layer (noodles), one fluorescent orange layer (sauce)….and I still lose phone numbers, dates, names. I don’t know why I continue to use them or even think that I need them. Post-it notes are not my friends and they are useless to me….but I love them and hoard them like a hoarder stashes their precious dried cat turds. Am I trying too hard to be organized that I’m disorganized?
I have bins, bags, boxes, totes, folders, tags, labels, pens, pencils, markers, highlighters – all the accoutrements required of the well-organized organizer. I’m obssessed with organizers and oranizing systems. I dream of walk-in closets with shoe racks that have remote controls for spinning the units around, so that I can see my shoes in neat pairs and not the piles of lone shoes in a tote thrown together because it’s fall now and all the ‘summer’ shoes need somewhere to go, so I can find my ‘fall’ shoes that are in piled in another tote from last spring that I’m not quite sure where I put. Anyway, my dreamy walk-in closet also has several shelves for sweaters and sweatshirts. There are mirrors for seeing how big your butt looks in those jeans. Sweet Jesus, what I wouldn’t give for a walk-in closet….sigh.
Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the discontented organizer: Her five-year plan changes every day because she can’t settle on a decent planner, but she’s not sure about space. She wants to seek out new closets and storage oranizers – to boldly try something that has never worked before. Space. Yeah. Never seem to have enough of it. If I did have more space, would I use it wisely or would I fill it all willy-nilly with more crap? At least now with limited space I purge and organize, ok – ATTEMPT to organize. Yet, I dream about what I would do with space! I see how I would decorate my home, how things would be put away and all the little piles of crap would disappear because I finally got a desk to put my writing things, homework, bills and other paperwork into.
What would happen if I really got that desk that I always wanted? Would I use it for good or evil? Right now, because it only exists in my head, I can see myself joyfully perched on my cozy little chair doing my homework or writing like a good writer should, but would I really do that if I got the desk? OR would I get it all situated, dressed up in pretty desk-like clothes and make it look good where I always imagined it to be and just let all the unwanted paperwork, books, journals, pens, pencils, odd wires, notes, other things that I don’t know what do with, pile up on it until it is barely recognizable from the pretty, cozy little wanted desk of my dreams? Yeah, EVIL…
In the end, what will matter the most to me? That I was able to organize every corner of my home? That I could manage every second of my day? Nope. Actually, the practice of trying to stay organized is what keeps me somewhat on task and in touch with my own reality. I stay honest with myself because as I write down each appointment in my planner or new task on my ‘to-do’ list, I’m reminded that I can only do one thing at a time. As tempted as I may be to turn the page to see what’s going on next week, I can’t do that because I don’t know what going to happen next week. Things change daily in our lives and the best laid plans need to be made with a back up plan in place and a back up for the back up…because you never know what life is going to throw at you.
I love my bins, boxes, totes and bags full of neatly folded things because when I take them down from the shelf those things are reminders that I got through that time and was able to put away those memories and save them for another day. Sweatshirts and hoodies of volleyball games that I thought would never end have ended and I hug those memories wishing they were back – just for one day though, being a sports mom is not for the weak – but I have the memories stored neatly and I hug them warmly.
I’ve often referred to myself as an optimistic procrastinator. Look it up. I’m there right next to the definition. However, as I’ve gotten old-er I realize that I’m a bit too optimistic and way to procrastinaty. I really need to either quit doing so much shit or get started on my stuff just a little earlier, so I can get finished on time or sooner. (ok, ok, ok…I’m laughing too…like, rolling on the floor, clapping my hands and tears running down my face laughing.) HOWEVER, I’m getting better at some things because my job really helps me with planning. I love planning ahead for my home visits and being ready to work with my family when I get there. Love it.
I am happy with my weird self. Depression and anxiety are at bay, and all the icky, crappy, scratchy things just don’t really have much time in my day to day life. I’m getting there. I suppose we all are. Getting there. Not sure where ‘there’ is, but we all have a ‘there’ to get to. How we get there is totally up to us. I’m trying very hard to be more organized as I’ve stated earlier, I’m just not sure what that means to me. I’m positive Jerry has no idea what it means! He watches me while I’m putting things away and I feel him thinking, “What in the hell is she doing now?” You see, sometimes I feel like all I’m doing is moving things from one place to another and not really being more organized; just moving things around so I feel like I’m being organized. I think some people call it obssessive compulsive disorder, but I know I have that in it’s own little beastly form, so we don’t even need to discuss that fun little demon. I want to know if I need more space to store things. I want to know how to manage my time in a way that makes sense to me. I want to stop saying organized.
Also, if one more person mentions bullet journaling I will throat punch you. That is the most confusing shit I have ever seen in my entire life of being disorganized. Talk about organized chaos? I don’t even know how anyone made that nightmare a thing. I also believe that if you have the organization to keep up with that hellish system then you don’t need it – so stop trying to sell me on it. When someone tried to explain it to me I wanted to cry. That whole set-up did nothing but make me feel like a big fat failure at my entire existence! Go straight back to the hell from whence you came bullet journaling! It’s for people with OCD organization and I’m just not there. I have OCD and I want to be organized…or I have OCD about wanting to be organized, but I do not, I repeat do NOT need bullet journaling in my life. Thank you.
Onward and upward. Today it’s raining again. I’m still poking away at this blog wanting to finish it with a bang, but it just seems hopeless. I have training all day at work and right now, my puppy is terrorizing his blue chew toy. I’m wondering if I am on the right path and I think the UPS just delivered the carpet cleaner I ordered last week. Things happen at an alarming rate when you are at home for an extra hour in the morning! I just realized that on my little decorative round table (that is now broken) I have three different types of essential oil and/or holistic methods of calming devices. All empty and turned off. No wonder I’m a wreck. Maybe if I fired all three of them up the bad juju in this cave would disappear…or maybe things would just catch fire. Or maybe I would pass out from an overload of good juju – is that a thing?
Off to be trained….I get into the weirdest shit.