January 2nd, 2012
2012
Twenty-twelve.
It beleaguers the imagination.
I’ve been trying to figure out why this particular new year’s has been so devastatingly depressing. I mean…for a long time now, new year’s has been one of those days I try not to think about. Just another day, new date on the checks, etc., etc. You know, the new year…is. It’s just the inexorable march of time. One more year I can’t go back and salvage. And I ain’t gettin’ any younger, either. That’s a huge part of it, I know. I’ll be 60 this year.
60
SIX-ty.
Shit.
That, in and of itself is enough to make me want to jump off a bridge (if I weren’t afraid of heights). Part of the disconnect is that I do not feel 60, hell…I don’t feel 40, mentally. Physically, my body is a disaster zone. Physically, I feel like I’m 90 most days. All this BS about 50 is the new 30 and 70 is the new 40, or whatever…those spinners never lived in my body. 60 is the new 90. Bah!
Instead of chronicling what I feel the issues are (which sounds suspiciously like making excuses), I’m going to try to take a page out of the sunshine and lollipop spin and look at ways to make 2012 a better year. I mean, you know…just not sitting around being morose would make it a better year, right?
First up, I’m decluttering the house. It’s a gargantuan undertaking, but I’m gettin’ ‘er done, by gosh. In that vein, I’ve decluttered Mdme B’s space here. My previous theme mirrored the usual state of my desk (might have even been cleaner…but I’ll never tell), but I’ve noticed most of the well-read sites are simpler, with white backgrounds.
Before you get all mushy and think this is a list of resolutions, don’t. I don’t do resolutions. They set you up for failure. These are things I’ve already been working on or need to do anyway, new year or not. It just seems like a good time to trot out the list since one of the things I’d like to get in the habit of doing is actually, you know, like…USING my web site–what a novel idea. Which reminds me of another one on the list. Setting up a time to write, every day, same time. I might actually get that novel done before I really am 90.
Dump about 80-90 pounds. Didn’t say pounds of what, now did I? (Technically, I’ve already done this: in decluttering in the last couple of days, I’ve trashed, recycled, and donated well over 100 pounds of schtuff. HA!) But yeah…part of the feeling 90 thing is this extra couple of bags of mulch I’m carrying around. Hee. In order to clearly demonstrate what carrying weight on your body is like, I use the following analogy: you know those bags of garden dirt, compost, or mulch? Each one weighs 40 pounds. I can barely tote ONE of those around. And I’m carrying at least two on a small, 5’5″ frame that wasn’t intended to carry more than about 145 pounds at the most. TWO! No wonder my knees are going and my feet hurt so much. (218 when I last weighed myself at work before the winter break, if you MUST know.)
Another thing I’m going to try for is consistency. Juliet said something about the moon’s inconstant orb…but you know, the moon is rather consistent. Each month, she does the same thing, perpetually. I’m not sure I’d want to be quite that predictable–and boring–but one could do far worse than be as consistent as Lady Luna.
Getting back on track being a vegesaur. Several times over the holidays, whether it was just because I was tempted by some yummy-meat thing or because there really wasn’t anything else to eat in the house, I’ve had things to eat which I regretted later. Regretted either because of guilt or because they upset my system something fierce. This goes along with actually planning some meals, doing shopping, and cooking! Gah…I have a teenager, for crying out loud, and I rely on my husband to cook most of the meals, but he doesn’t make veggies and green things, so no one gets the nutrition they should. *slaps own hand*
One last thought on this is time spent on the computer. It is a very useful tool, when used properly, but I spend too much time on FB and playing games, and not enough time doing creative things with it. Posting projects and the like here will be a part of a renewed effort putting what little time I have left on this earth to good use. Believe it or not, I actually go days without checking FB, I don’t twitter, or Google-group…but I still manage to waste an inordinate amount of time on teh intarwebs. I love googling ideas, items, history, pictures, etc. THAT can really eat up time, lemmetellya.
So. I’m off to clean that other catbox, start a back-to-work-and-school washing marathon, finish scanning a kajillion photos for my boss (he’s paying me), bake two more loaves of banana bread, wash dishes and continue sorting and culling 20 years of crap that grew in my house and wonder if clutter is like mold or a fungus…does it spread by spores?
Categories: Self |
Tags: about me, aging, cleaning, clutter, lists, self-pity | Comments Off
August 26th, 2010
I was doing quite well last week, with the blogging. And then it all went pear-shaped, as they say.
I did actually make some progress with “things” over the weekend, but you know…two steps forward, 19 back…and here I am again. Still with mounds of clean clothes to be folded and put away; I’d done all the dishes and spiffed up the counters, and there it is all to do again. Damned dishes…what is it with having to be washed every day? I mean, really? And then I tried to do myself in this morning.
I go now?
This cat, Valentino, who is very prone to urinary issues, has decided that even the soft wheat cat litter is not to his liking, so he’s been peeing on the garage floor next to the box, instead of in the box. *headdesk* So, this morning, he’d done it again, so I grabbed what I thought was the hydrogen-peroxide kitty destinkum gallon jug. The stuff foamed up like it was supposed to and it usually has an odor, so I wasn’t too horribly concerned over the odd smell and the burning, tingling eye-thing.
Do you know what the major ingredient in urine is? That’s right, Baby Bop, it’s ammonia!
Do you know what was in the white gallon jug? That’s RIGHT, chlorine bleach!
Now…who knows what happens when you mix chlorine and ammonia?
Are we going to read the label first from now on? You betcha, Red Rider!
Categories: Critters, Daily Bull, Health, Stupid Stuff I Do, Tip'o'the Day |
Tags: cleaning, Daily Bull, my critters, Tip of the Day | Comments Off
June 6th, 2010
A clean fridge is a marvelous thing.
A clean refrigerator. Aaaah. My hands are raw and I’ve dripped soapy water from one end of the kitchen to the other, and most of my groceries (except dairy) sat out all day. But the fridge is all washed and the crap cleaned out. I took out every shelf and door pocket, took them apart and scrubbed ‘em with Method Purple Spray (which, by the way, works better than anything I’ve ever found on that tough, sticky kitchen grease), and also with soapy water, rinsed and dried, and reassembled them. Also took a bunch of stuff out to the compost. The person who messes it up will not be a happy camper.
The freezer side is next. Then to conquer the rest of the kitchen. Ennui be damned!
Oh, and the spousal unit laughed his ass off at me taking this picture.
Categories: My House |
Tags: cleaning, Kitchen, My House, projects | Comments Off
June 6th, 2010
For my main home page, I have iGoogle. You can pick all sorts of fun widgets to clutter up your iGoogle page and one of them is a daily horoscope from Tarot.com. For the most part, it’s like any other generic, one-size-fits-none daily horoscope. But lately, they’ve been hitting it eerily spot-on. Today’s is a prime example:
You may feel as if you are at a turning point in your life, but everything may seem bigger than it actually is. It will take months before your long-term goals clarify, yet the choices you make now will be instrumental in your new direction. Don’t worry if you cannot put all your ideas into one practical package. For now, let your imagination flow without restraint; you can make sense of your thoughts later on.
Over the last couple of days, I’ve been determined to turn things around in my life, to end the cycle of downward spiral, clean things up, clear things out, lose weight, finish projects, etc. But my mind can’t settle on one thing to begin with. Today I decided to take control of my kitchen. I’ve washed a ton of dishes, and am cleaning the fridge out (most of what was in there was nascent compost), wash it out and clean the floors and start the plan to paint and refurbish the kitchen. Also, I want to work my way through the laundry monster that’s taken over the laundry/cat area in my studio, and move ahead on getting my shelves back up in my bedroom.
Why the heck am I sitting here typing??
Categories: Every Now and Then Horoscope, Self |
Tags: about me, cleaning, clutter, projects, Self, Taurus | Comments Off
July 2nd, 2009
My foray into humor yesterday left me wondering, why IS my house such a wreck? Yes, I’ve always had issues with being tidy, but the underlying house was always clean and it really only took a short time to tidy up, once I got around to it. But for the past 15 years, I’ve had increasing issues with finding that round tuit and things get dirtier and pile up. I’ve tried FlyLady (I think the crappy fuchsia and purple layout keep me at odds, I’m not sure), I’ve tried treating my ADHD, I’ve laid out plans, lists, and routines, given stuff away, thrown stuff away, and stored things until I could deal with them…but it just gets worse.
For the last eight years, I’ve given myself a break because I was diagnosed with ADHD at 49. Then I determined I cannot form a habit, even a bad one. Fly Lady says it’s perfectionism, and I agree to some extent on that—I find myself looking at something and thinking, oh, I could pick up that little bit, but rationalizing, “I can’t do it all right now, so that won’t really do any good.” I’ve called myself every ugly name in the book: fat, lazy, worthless, stupid, inept…
But this week, a couple of things happened that made me re-evaluate the situation. First, my daughter’s best friend since high school came in town for their 20th reunion. I adore (I’ll call her Annie) and always want to see her when she comes in town, so I met the two of them at a local Austin café, Thunderbird Coffee in Brentwood. We spent a lot of time talking about parents, and Annie’s mom, who was my best friend for years, but we’ve drifted apart since she moved away. I can’t divulge what was talked about, but suffice it to say that things weren’t always rosy between Annie and her mom. I stopped and asked them something like what was the biggest life lesson you learned—one way or the other—from your mother. Annie talked for a bit. My daughter kind of clammed up, so I was thinking okay, she probably doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. So, being the kind who sticks the needle in the wound to see if it still hurts, I asked…and you?
What she said made me deliriously happy. She said the main thing I taught her was that you get up and get what needs to be done, done. Regardless of what else is going on, some things have to happen, and I always did that. I thanked her later; if the best—or worst—thing that could be said about my parenting is that? Then I did just fine.
The other thing that happened was that my husband went on a business trip for the week. I dropped him off at work on Monday at 7:25 in the morning and won’t see him until tomorrow afternoon. And, while I cannot say that I was a tornado of cleaning efficiency, or even that I got that much done, I can say I did some things I was dreading and I got up on time, kept a regular schedule with the animals and felt like I could physically handle things that I would normally defer to him. For instance, it took me about 10 minutes to move several of the roughnecks full of stuff off the patio, sweep it, and hose it off, then I loaded the roughnecks in the van and later took them to the storage unit (yeah, I have one of those again). I had been waiting for a good time to ask him to carry them. Guess what? I can do it myself. Yes, my hips and upper back are bitching at me today, but I don’t really care.
I told my daughter that I think I have CDCS (Co-Dependent Cinderella Syndrome). Subconsciously I keep expecting someone to rescue me. Insert confused dog head-tilt here. No, I don’t expect him to clean up my crap, but I do sit around and wait for him to do things or ask him to do shit that I could very well get up and do myself (feeding the dogs, for instance, which means they get fed “whenever” instead of on the schedule that I set). My crap gets piled higher and deeper, but he doesn’t ever say anything about it. I also get resentful when other than taking out the trash and occasionally mowing the lawn, he won’t initiate doing anything without being prompted, but that’s a whole other issue….or is it? Is my resentment boiling over into what used to be an “I can do anything” attitude? Some things, I cannot do any longer. I simply do not have the strength that I used to have, but, as with the roughnecks, I obviously can do some things. And those things take a lot less time than I thought, and certainly less time than waiting for Prince Cleanemup to come to my aid.
The funniest part about this is that I’ve actually imagined what it would be like if Niecy Whatsername from Clean House showed up.
Knock knock knock (they are knocking because I took the plate loose on the doorbell in 1995 to paint and have never screwed it back in—even though I’ve actually bought a new one—so people don’t know if it works, will electrocute them, or connect them to the Whitehouse)
I open the door and give them the haven’t you read the fucking “No soliciting” sign? glare.
“HIIIII! I’m Niecy Whatsername from Style Television’s Clean House!”
Deadpan. “And?”
Flummoxed look. “Well we’re here to save your bacon!”
“I have no bacon that needs saving. I’m a vegetarian.”
“Oh, well..that was just a figure of speech. Have you heard of our show?”
“Yes. And a) I don’t have enough stuff to sell for 2-, 3-, 4, 000 bucks…heck I don’t even have enough to fix the drain for the bathtub and replace the tub and surround, which all needs to be done before I can even think about flooring in the greatroom, and that’s another 1200 to 2000…unless you’re giving money away?”
“Um, no. But you neeed us…”
“…who sent you? I want to take a contract out on them.”
Slight look of panic. “Well, we..uh…can’t we just come in and take a look around?”
“No. I don’t want you telling me what to do with my things. I’m not going to negotiate to keep my Golden Retriever furball collection.”
Blank stare.
“I kid. But seriously, who sent you?”
The entire crew breaks for cover as Niecy shouts over her shoulder, “Martha Stewart!!!”
Categories: Self |
Tags: about me, cleaning, My House, relationships | Comments Off
