Question: Why are retirees so slow to clean out the basement, attic or garage?
Answer: They know that as soon as they do, one of their adult kids will want to store stuff there..
When I received the above from a friend, it made me stop, not only to rationalize my procrastination but to see the wisdom of not rushing to take care of everything that people tell me needs doing. Aside from the people who are always giving decorating hints, my cleaning woman who finds it easier when there are fewer items on surfaces and tells me the house looks so much better (as in after Xmas when I have not yet put house decorations back).
Indeed, my preference has always been for simplicity except that 'things' are like people to me...and that disqualifies them as clutter. Another reason I probably won't leave a spotless house when I go is that I, like most seniors, do not want to spend the rest of my days cleaning up messes. I gave at the office and everywhere else most of my life. Maybe there is a sense of balance or justice in there. I have never known an elder to die with a clean house. I suppose that says something I should understand...and am now beginning to think about. The answer came as a shock to me. It is: 'I don't really care what people think of me when I am dead...I will never know!' Antecedent relatives who left so much for me to clean up didn't worry about it beforehand and, unlikely, after death. I see no reason to reinvent this wheel...
So as long as I am paying my bills and enjoy being surrounded by a life of hobbies and 'stuff' as George Carlin used to say, I will play with as much of my time as I can fit in...with or without playmates, though I can usually find quite a few willing to go off and have fun rather than continuing to peel their nose on the grindstone for no real purpose in life but to have a neat house.
Showing posts with label a cluttered mind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label a cluttered mind. Show all posts
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
THE PRICE OF LACK OF ORGANIZATION
As the sorely missed George Carlin used to say, "You have to have something to put your 'stuff' in." I have used precious book shelf space to store the how-to-organize-your-life-and-stuff books, but failed to find where it teaches me how to find the time to read them. Of course, that my life is a blivet (trying to put 3 pounds of manure in a 2 pound bag) makes the situation serious. I have more 'stuff' than my should-be-adequate house fits.
But storage problems are miniscule to the overall problems. Being a bit compulsive (which is in degree akin to being a bit pregnant). I make massive use of databases and spreadsheets to track my life. Yearly expenses are noted on a spreadsheet to ease life near April 15th. This should make filing income tax a breeze. To the papers I thought were neatly filed, the breeze resembles a gale in my office. I try to keep track of online payments, note checks paid, file receipts, balance two checking accounts, photocopy check deposits, so that any trip to the bank turns into the 'event' of the day, not made too often.
Sorting mail, if not done daily, piles up so I tremble thatI will never be able to lower the mountain. The only space in the house for mail is the dining room table. (I do have to lay my food down somewhere). When I have more than one person for a meal, the whole pile has to be moved. Often the pile contains a bill, unceremoniously buried, which can be costly when not paid on time; too severe a punishment for my organizational lapses.
For years it has been a firm rule that I will not play a CD (used to be an LP) unless first entered in my database and numbered on the disk. Too often I find CDs that have missed this baptism ritual. When my filing system gets disrupted and I can't find what I want on the database, I assume I don't own it and have been known to buy a second copy. In fact, that happens with tools, kitchen gadgets, office supplies, and all sorts of things that get lost. Sometimes in my wanderings I note seeing something I have lost but since I am not likely to need it at the time, it quickly gets forgotten. I am apt to replace it for a third time when I need it.
Why then, after emptying the dishwasher, folding the clothes from the dryer and putting them away, replacing things to the papers I thought were neatly filed after using them, do I find no surface without something piled so high that I am constantly holding back avalanches. In an attempt to 'assist' me to sort mail daily, my husband once tried putting the mail on our bed. His assumption that I would deal with it before I could get into the bed was wrong. My eyes were rolling around in my head as I headed for its horizontal comfort, already comatose. He was stopped at the pass when all I could do was push it all to the floor with no time to pick it up in the morning as I rushed off to work. I realized that being utterly exhausted much of the time figured as a strong factor in my lack of properly of organizing. Naps have been suggested to ease this. I have not found the time to schedule naps but sometimes the bed finds me when my face hits the pillow. I am instantly useless. Sometimes this is after I have awakened, realizing that my face was on my keyboard, having fallen asleep while sitting, trying to type.
As I try to solve this problem (which uses up more passive time) I realize that I have unconsciously placed the clutter problem at the bottom of my priority list. I shall waste no more time trying to lift it high up on the list. Even if the sign of an uncluttered mind is an uncluttered house, I will accept that my multi-tasking, ever curious, ever busy mind will just have to remain cluttered.....as will my house.
But storage problems are miniscule to the overall problems. Being a bit compulsive (which is in degree akin to being a bit pregnant). I make massive use of databases and spreadsheets to track my life. Yearly expenses are noted on a spreadsheet to ease life near April 15th. This should make filing income tax a breeze. To the papers I thought were neatly filed, the breeze resembles a gale in my office. I try to keep track of online payments, note checks paid, file receipts, balance two checking accounts, photocopy check deposits, so that any trip to the bank turns into the 'event' of the day, not made too often.
Sorting mail, if not done daily, piles up so I tremble thatI will never be able to lower the mountain. The only space in the house for mail is the dining room table. (I do have to lay my food down somewhere). When I have more than one person for a meal, the whole pile has to be moved. Often the pile contains a bill, unceremoniously buried, which can be costly when not paid on time; too severe a punishment for my organizational lapses.
For years it has been a firm rule that I will not play a CD (used to be an LP) unless first entered in my database and numbered on the disk. Too often I find CDs that have missed this baptism ritual. When my filing system gets disrupted and I can't find what I want on the database, I assume I don't own it and have been known to buy a second copy. In fact, that happens with tools, kitchen gadgets, office supplies, and all sorts of things that get lost. Sometimes in my wanderings I note seeing something I have lost but since I am not likely to need it at the time, it quickly gets forgotten. I am apt to replace it for a third time when I need it.
Why then, after emptying the dishwasher, folding the clothes from the dryer and putting them away, replacing things to the papers I thought were neatly filed after using them, do I find no surface without something piled so high that I am constantly holding back avalanches. In an attempt to 'assist' me to sort mail daily, my husband once tried putting the mail on our bed. His assumption that I would deal with it before I could get into the bed was wrong. My eyes were rolling around in my head as I headed for its horizontal comfort, already comatose. He was stopped at the pass when all I could do was push it all to the floor with no time to pick it up in the morning as I rushed off to work. I realized that being utterly exhausted much of the time figured as a strong factor in my lack of properly of organizing. Naps have been suggested to ease this. I have not found the time to schedule naps but sometimes the bed finds me when my face hits the pillow. I am instantly useless. Sometimes this is after I have awakened, realizing that my face was on my keyboard, having fallen asleep while sitting, trying to type.
As I try to solve this problem (which uses up more passive time) I realize that I have unconsciously placed the clutter problem at the bottom of my priority list. I shall waste no more time trying to lift it high up on the list. Even if the sign of an uncluttered mind is an uncluttered house, I will accept that my multi-tasking, ever curious, ever busy mind will just have to remain cluttered.....as will my house.
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