…I do not mean to be saying what it looks like I’m saying. It’s just a sprain, and evidence that lately I cannot multi-task with any degree of success. How it happened is not important. It’s just another day in my life, lately. And frankly, it’s not pretty.
In fact, this will not be a pretty blog, full of pretty blog pictures like so many I read.
This post is sort of a testament that I still have much much to do in here.
It’s in corners, but mostly it’s stacked on flat surfaces.
I learned once from watching one of those home organization shows that I am a “stacker.” No, not a slacker, a stacker. So true. I organize by making little piles of stuff, and then spreading them out across a flat surface. My kind of disorganization is supposedly remedied by “horizontal filing.” So what I bought to tidy myself up was one of those stacks of trays that allow you to have multiple stacks of stuff in one desktop footprint. I did this in my studio space and I must admit it worked pretty well. However, now those trays are inaccessible and frankly, would need to go to the ceiling to do any good.
And the POD. Oh Evil POD that hides your stuff away and lulls you into thinking that all you see inside your house is all you have. Especially evil because in this land of no basements (and in Eichlers, no attics, either), what you see is indeed, what you have to contend with. Oh POD, I despise you.
And as you all can see, here is evidence that there absolutely is even more crapola stuff to cram into whatever space I can find put away in our little house (even though there are are a fair number of empty, unbroken-down-yet boxes in there).
The only answer is the garage. And today is the annual “Get it the heck outta my life” day. Yes, of course I try to regularly dump stuff from the garage, but I’m at the point where I need CR’s muscles. And besides, some of this stuff is his and I don’t want to make any decisions on his stuff. But the bulk of it is “ours” and indeed, quite a lot of it is the Bug’s. As she is getting older and (finally) parting with her stuffed animal collection and toys, the garage is the first stage of releasing it. Instead of just clearing everything in her room and giving what we clear directly to Goodwill, it goes into plastic bags and gets put on the shelf in the garage for 3 months. If she hasn’t asked for it by that time, then it goes so that some other kid will be able to love it.
Anyway, I’m off to tackle this stuff. Wish me luck. Hopefully I won’t sprain the other hand in the process.