My goals for the Round were to bring some order into my life, whether that be words, clutter, mental disorder, or whatever.
One of my major faults is, although I prefer to have spotlessly clean spaces around me, I fold immediately at the “broken-window” stage. “Broken-window” is the idea that one broken window in a vacant house will lead to more, since the first step toward disorder has happened. In my home, that means that I lose the impetus to clean when faced with a mess–mail thrown carelessly on the kitchen counter, magazines piling up on the bathroom shelf. I sigh, give up almost immediately, and add to the mess. Such behavior means that I have to overcome an amazing amount of inertia to clean up the kitchen counter or the bathroom shelf, especially since I have found that some other residents of Testosterone Palace can ignore the piles of mess far better than I can, so waiting them out is futile. A further hurdle is that it is clutter, not dirt, which everyone is pretty good at attacking when it occurs.
I had a flash the other day, realizing another hurdle. We live in a rental house, a smart choice because we didn’t know in what neighborhood we would want to live, whether we would get tenure, and to build up a down payment. However, while the house has a lot of potential, we have neither the time nor the inclination to fix it up the way we would if we owned it. There are no curtains anywhere except the sunroom, where the orange curtains scream against the mint green walls. Someone liked orange here, because the stairway and upstairs hallway is orange faux plaster, which is probably my least favorite home decor color and method, with the topper of an outdoor wrought iron banister, painted, you guessed it, orange. We have permission from the landlord to paint, but painting that stairwell and hallway would be a bear. So, I have to admit that part of the reason I have trouble keeping up with the clutter is that no matter what I do, the place will still be ugly.
At the beginning of this Round, I realized that I would throw myself at the door to prevent anyone from coming into the house, which is not very neighborly. Thus my goals coalesced. I’m saving for curtains, because this house has a ton of windows–a nice, but expensive, touch. I have a handful of paint chips that I refuse to test against the orange, figuring I will just live with the colors jostling each other.
The upshot is that I’m still finding out things about myself, even at my age. I guess that is why life continues to be interesting.
Are you one of those people I admire, who can move into a place and have it showroom ready in a month?
One hour three times. Still on target, just barely, but holding on.
Visit my assigned blogs twice a week– I am still behind, and the time I carved out last week disappeared into putting out fires at work. I’m hoping to hide at lunch breaks this next week.
Reply to all comments–No. Sigh. Maybe during another lunch break.
One hour three times a week at home going through paper detritus of modern life–10 hours going through papers and paying bills. I feel virtuous!
One hour three times a week going through electronic files–rename, delete, archive. I concentrated on the paper monster, but hope to get back to the electronic this week.
Walk. Seriously. 30 minutes a day. Only twice this past week
Follow-up on all the health issues. Still waiting.
Family day, no working and time with family, one day per week–Yes. I managed to spend only a short period on the internet on Saturday, despite the siren call wafting to me to play games. Again, I feel virtuous!
List and report on what I’m reading, even the dry, academic stuff.
Run Rosie Run, C. C. Mackenzie
The Trouble with Coco Monroe, C. C. Mackenzie
Aphrodisiac, Alicia and Roy Street
I’ve read several samples this week, too:
The Corpse Reader, Antonio Garrido
A Train Through Time, Bess McBride
Sketchy, Olivia Samms
True Detective, Max Allen Collins
There’s my week for you. Please go visit some of the other ROWers here.