I could've saved myself a lot of work
Jan. 8th, 2011 03:45 pmAh, 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.
( Although, really, I'm just getting started. )
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.
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* 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.
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.
.