I could've saved myself a lot of work
Jan. 8th, 2011 03:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vanillafluffyAh, the joys of domesticity! I spent a while in the dining room---I didn't set a timer, or look at the clock, just focused on ONE thing: Picking the trash up from my dining room floor. This consisted primarily of two things, empty soda cartons and plastic grocery bags.
The cartons I methodically broke down and inserted into an egg carton. The bags I stuffed into other bags* and stuffed those into trash bags, which are piled in the living room. I'll take the trash bags o' bags with me to the food pantry on Monday; they can always use them. I myself have gotten into the habit of taking reusable bags with me...if I'd gotten into that habit earlier, I'd've saved myself a lot of work picking up bags.
However, looking at the positive side, I reminded myself that I'm drinking mostly water now---filtered, at that!---so this should be the last time I have to perform that breakdown (well, except for the ones that migrated into other rooms). Likewise, using reusable bags should render plastic bags a fairly minor nuisance.
For the first time in going on a year, I can actually walk into my kitchen from my dining room. Considering the fact that two hours ago, the crap was piled waist deep---seriously!---that's a major triumph.
Now comes the fun part.
I get to go through the STUFF that's left behind, figure out what goes and what stays and where the hell to put it all. What stuff? you ask. For starters, there's the Drawer. It was the top drawer of a dresser that has long since gone to the curb...it survived by virtue of being crammed with sentimental artifacts that I've never had the fortitude to sit down and go through, because then I'd be faced with the issue of Where the hell does it go?!.
Then there's the dining table. At this time last year, I was proud of myself, because it was cleared down to bare formica so I could put a tablecloth and a vase with silk flowers on it, and that was all---until Kat's stuff came in, and stuff migrated and accumulated. I want it back down to bare surface again, damn it! I have a perfectly glorious tablecloth I want to showcase, but I can't with all that junk there.
I also want to get rid of the four chairs in there---that's why I got those folding chairs last fall, after all---which are two totally different, clashing styles. *deep breath* But that's not an emergency.
At least I'm doing something. That's what I tell myself when i look around and there's a sea of chaos next to the tiny patch of order I've created. Compared to inertia, it's progress.
===================================================
* Which reminded me of an incident at a rummage sale I once attended. One of the ladies runing the sale took out a bag (from another bag), but I'd already made a purchase and told her I'd just put whatever it was into the bag I already had.
She went to put the bag back, and another lady hurried over and said, "Don't do it like that! If you fold them, you can get 74 bags in there." At which point, I thought, Shoot me if I ever get that old and bored and have that much OCD going on.
.
The cartons I methodically broke down and inserted into an egg carton. The bags I stuffed into other bags* and stuffed those into trash bags, which are piled in the living room. I'll take the trash bags o' bags with me to the food pantry on Monday; they can always use them. I myself have gotten into the habit of taking reusable bags with me...if I'd gotten into that habit earlier, I'd've saved myself a lot of work picking up bags.
However, looking at the positive side, I reminded myself that I'm drinking mostly water now---filtered, at that!---so this should be the last time I have to perform that breakdown (well, except for the ones that migrated into other rooms). Likewise, using reusable bags should render plastic bags a fairly minor nuisance.
For the first time in going on a year, I can actually walk into my kitchen from my dining room. Considering the fact that two hours ago, the crap was piled waist deep---seriously!---that's a major triumph.
Now comes the fun part.
I get to go through the STUFF that's left behind, figure out what goes and what stays and where the hell to put it all. What stuff? you ask. For starters, there's the Drawer. It was the top drawer of a dresser that has long since gone to the curb...it survived by virtue of being crammed with sentimental artifacts that I've never had the fortitude to sit down and go through, because then I'd be faced with the issue of Where the hell does it go?!.
Then there's the dining table. At this time last year, I was proud of myself, because it was cleared down to bare formica so I could put a tablecloth and a vase with silk flowers on it, and that was all---until Kat's stuff came in, and stuff migrated and accumulated. I want it back down to bare surface again, damn it! I have a perfectly glorious tablecloth I want to showcase, but I can't with all that junk there.
I also want to get rid of the four chairs in there---that's why I got those folding chairs last fall, after all---which are two totally different, clashing styles. *deep breath* But that's not an emergency.
At least I'm doing something. That's what I tell myself when i look around and there's a sea of chaos next to the tiny patch of order I've created. Compared to inertia, it's progress.
===================================================
* Which reminded me of an incident at a rummage sale I once attended. One of the ladies runing the sale took out a bag (from another bag), but I'd already made a purchase and told her I'd just put whatever it was into the bag I already had.
She went to put the bag back, and another lady hurried over and said, "Don't do it like that! If you fold them, you can get 74 bags in there." At which point, I thought, Shoot me if I ever get that old and bored and have that much OCD going on.
.