What is time?

I got home Thursday night and was just beat. No reason, really. Not a busy day at work -- not by the longest shot -- and I'm coughing less as I recover from my bronchitis. But still, I wanted a nap. And if I want a nap, maybe I should listen to my body and take one.

On the other hand, I also want to live up to my OneWord and do MORE each day. Move more, be more productive, save more, etc.

So when I woke up from nap at about 10:00 PM, I thought, there's really no reason why I can't do something. After all, that's why I chose MORE. I don't have to do everything, I just want to do MORE.

And so I scrubbed my bathroom floor. Not just wiped it down, scrubbed it with Mr. Clean and rinsed it down.

One of the benefits of living alone is that flurry of activity disturbed no one. And I feel good about having done MORE before Thursday ended.

If I'm more flexible about how I approach my out-of-office hours, I can get MORE done.

October Challenge -- Day 28

I'm joining Ms. Kwiz for her October blogging challenge.

Day 28: How are the yearly goals going?


OK, I guess.

I'm a wee bit ahead on my finances. I've curbed my spending and am thrilled by this bit of financial serendipity: I took out a short-term loan in 2016, which will be paid off in January ... just in time for the building's special assessment to kick in. It's a relief to not have to worry where I'll come up with that extra $95 each month, and a nice lesson in how planning can help me stave off monetary chaos.

I'm feeling better. My right leg is fine. I seldom have hip stiffness, the stabbing pains are gone, and my toes no longer tingle. My chiropractor is a genius!

BUT I'm still not working out regularly, and I must. I've started going back to the gym twice/week, which is a start, but it's not enough increase my endurance (I get winded on stairs) and help lower my blood sugar.

And then there's the clutter. I'm still drowning in stuff.

C'mon, Kids, Let's Hear It for Me!

Grocery shopping -- DONE!
Laundry -- DONE! (And that includes the mattress topper and pillow protectors, thankyouverymuch)
Vacuuming -- DONE! (Pretty much)

To think, I can enjoy a three-day weekend without feeling guilty about not keeping up with the most basic chores. That doesn't happen often!

 

HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!

Rehoming Kate, Marilyn, Barbara and Jackie

I checked the Free Little Library on the corner and am happy to report that four of the paperback biographies I dropped off have been picked up by others!

Kate: The Life of Katharine Hepburn by Charles Higham was published in 1975. The lady herself was still alive, perhaps that's why it was so "affectionate" (OK, it was fawning). Still, The Great Kate is a feminist and film icon and when I was a girl, this volume helped explain why. I like thinking it will do the same for another fledgling fan.

Legend: The Life and Death of Marilyn Monroe by Fred Lawrence Guiles was published in 1991. It's a sympathetic and rather well regarded biography of Marilyn. But there are other books that had a greater emotional impact on me. Still I'm glad I was able to share a book that treats Marilyn with respect.

Barbara Stanwyck by Al Diorio is a book from the 1980s that I really didn't like. It's not really the fault of the author. Stanwyck was a dreadful mother. Not abusive, as Joan Crawford has been rumored to be. But disinterested to the point of neglect. Since she played such compelling mothers on the screen (Stella Dallas, Victoria Barkley on The Big Valley), I found this disturbing. Still, she has her loyal fans, and I hope this lands in the hands of one of them.

The Kennedy Women by Lawrence Leamer is from 1994. It was an easy read that goes well beyond my girl Jackie. It introduced me to Bridget, who immigrated to America and married Patrick Kennedy. Her great-grandson was John Fitzgerald Kennedy. The book is a fine intro to women who were Kennedys by birth or marriage. I like that I'm sharing this slice of American history with someone else.

Instead of just yellowing with antiquity and collecting dust, these books are being cracked open again. To borrow from Marie Kondo, giving these books a second life "sparks joy."

Among my bookshelves

So Wednesday night, I decided to choose 10 books to part with. Among them are biographies of the Beatles, Katharine Hepburn and JBKO that I read when I was very young and that I find too superficial to refer back to. That doesn't mean they won't appeal to someone just learning about these people, and so it makes me happy to put them in the Goodwill sack. If they engage or charm someone else, well, that's lovely.

But on the bottom shelf, by the window, I found a paperback biography of Barbara Stanwyck. By Al Diorio. That I bought approximately 35 years ago.

And that I purchased again 2 1/2 years ago.  I actually read it -- and didn't much care for it! -- during the summer of 2016.

So that's what a mess my personal library is! Two copies of a book I don't even like! I know Stanwyck has her aficionados -- my movie group moderator adores her -- so I wouldn't be surprised if the Diorio book is appreciated more elsewhere. So it makes me happy to toss it into the Goodwill bag.

Which is why I sent Surrender, Dorothy to Kathy. It's a book I appreciated more than liked, but I recognize it has value. Rather than let it languish in my den, I slipped it into a padded envelope and mailed it off to Dekalb. It's a thought provoking book, and I'm happy to give Kathy a crack at it.

I just finished it and January and WHOOSH! It's gone. That's a far cry from the Stanwyck paperback that I moved with me from one apartment to another but never read. (Or never recalled reading.)

Again, this is my version of Marie Kondo. For me, the question isn't, "Does this spark joy?" Instead, it's "would having this make someone else happier than it makes me?"

Another trip to the dumpster

Tonight I disposed of three cardboard boxes, a bathmat and a rag that had been in my den since October. I've been hanging onto the boxes because I thought I could use them for ... something. In more than three months, that something hasn't presented itself, so I guess there's no reason to keep them.

The mat? Oh, it was a "what if?" As in "what if the new bathmat I bought doesn't work out?" The new mat has been in the bathroom for more than three months. I think that's long enough to establish that it's fine. The rag? I could wash it and put it in the closet with my other rags, but why? I have plenty of rags in there already.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, gives you a window into how my home has become overstuffed.

I hate me

I had so many things I was going to do on Sunday. I had nothing specific planned. I was just really gonna attack the clutter.

I didn't. I soaked in the tub.* I watched the Sunday news shows. I went out for Chinese. I did laundry. I napped -- for just a minute -- and then woke up six hours later!

Monday is President's Day. I am going to attack the stack of stuff on the chair in my living room. I know it doesn't sound like a very ambitious goal, but I have plans for the day -- mammogram, filing my tax return, movie group.

And maybe, if I give myself something measurable and specific to do, I can actually get it done.

*My chiropractor wants me to soak in epsom salts, hoping it will help the knot at the base of my spine.

Call me Goldilocks

Thursday night, I attacked the stack of clothes next to my nightstand. I am parting with the Paul McCartney tour t-shirt I bought back in 2015, but have never worn because it's way too small. Someone else might come upon it and be thrilled. Better they have it than me. (My version of Marie Kondo.)

And I'm getting rid of a mess of mesh laundry bags. Some were way too small for my use. One was gigantic. But I never got rid of them because they were virtually new and usable and it seemed like a sin to add them to the landfill.

I still feel that way. But I feel that way about just about everything. And that's why my home is overstuffed and overcrowded. I'm too picky to use this shit but unwilling to toss it away.

I have to get over that.

Five books and a bucket of cleaning supplies

Since I long to feel less stuck, I'm not waiting till Saturday to declutter. I've decided to do it a little every night.

So five book and a bucket of cleaning supplies are departing my bedroom. Why did I have a bucket of cleaning supplies in my bedroom? Because I put them in there when I removed them from under my bathroom sink back in October, and I just kinda got used to seeing them there. That's how I roll when left to my own devices.

So the books are in a bag for Goodwill. I used my own version of Marie Kondo's technique. Do these particular volumes make me happy? Could they make someone else happier? So that's why I'm giving up some of my later Grafton/alphabet mysteries and a coffee table book on Bobby Kennedy. I'm truly sad that Sue Grafton died and will miss Kinsey's adventures. But keeping these books don't really help me feel better and someone else might enjoy them. The RFK book is really pretty superficial, it was an impulse "50 years ago today" purchase. But to someone new to his story? The photos and text might be inspiring.

That was Wednesday. Let's see how long this resolution lasts.

The cleaning supplies? They're under the kitchen sink.

Stuck

I'm frozen in place, and it has nothing to do with the weather. My home is a mess, and yet when it comes to housework, I am immobile.

I returned home from vacation before New Year's, and my empty suitcase is still in my bedroom. I haven't even screwed up the energy to move it back to the den closet.

I have books everywhere! Papers everywhere! Clothes everywhere! I can write my name in the dust on my TVs. I do laundry, grocery shop and take out the garbage. Period.

I promise myself I will spend Saturday and Sunday getting the place in shape. Of course, I promised myself last Sunday I would do that ... and didn't. I'm smart enough to know this is a manifestation of depression. I'm not smart enough to know what to do about it.

There may be another bed bug inspection. As icky as that sounds, it might be a good thing. Since I'm on the board, I can't very well exempt my own unit. I have to set an example. Therefore I would have a date certain to have my place clean. It worked last time.

With me luck!

Go in peace

I haven't actually read any of Marie Kondo's writings, but I've read about her approach to household organization and decluttering.

One takeaway was that things should spark joy. It's with this in mind that I attacked my jewelry rack. I thought realistically about when I last wore a piece, or how often I wore it ... and then I imagined someone spotting it at Goodwill and it making her happy. If a thing no longer brings me joy, why shouldn't it brighten someone else's world? With that in mind, I'm parting with 13 pairs of earrings, one necklace and three rings.

Even better, when I look at what I've got, it's easier for me to decide what to wear.

I know what you're thinking: DUH!

OK, so it takes me a while.

Sometimes I really hate myself

This is not my home. You know how you can tell? I don't have a treadmill.

Really, my living room and den are such a mess. My living room mess is perpetual. My den has been in disarray since I had to take all the books off the shelves back in 2016. 2016!

I had left Sunday open to do housework. To make a dent in the mess. And I didn't. You know what I did instead? Nothing.

I have to get the living room decluttered and the bathroom clean by 9:00 AM Tuesday, 8/22. That's when the first of two contractors is coming over to check out the bathroom and give me estimates for renovation.

Then I have to get the den elevated to at least presentable by the time I have the work done in October.

Why is this so hard for me? Cleaning up after oneself is something other people do rather effortlessly.

Sometimes I miss being in therapy. Sometimes I really hate myself.

I am that slowly boiled frog

You know the premise. Put a frog in a pot of boiling water and he will immediately jump out to safety, put him in a pot of cool water but slowly turn up the heat and he will lazily allow himself to be boiled to death. He just won't notice the incremental change.

That's so me, and that's how my home became such a mess. Little by little. I was just oblivious to my incrementally increasing sloppiness.

For example, my bathmat. It is, literally, no big deal. Retails for $9.99 at Bed Bath and Beyond. A piece of PVC rubber with suction cups.

Oh, yeah. And it was once clear. I didn't realize how hideously discolored mine had become until I spotted them on a display while I was buying a new shower curtain liner.

Mine was clean, mind you. I regularly tossed it in the washing machine. But it had gradually become a dingy yellow, and I never noticed.

The perfect metaphor for my entire home.

Stuff

This afternoon I decided to part with 18 books, 3 sweaters, a sweatshirt and 2 t-shirts. That's a box of books and a plastic bag of clothes.

And yet my home is still overflowing. It's disheartening.

OneWord: FOCUS where I need to

FOCUS

verb

to concentrate: to focus one's thoughts

I want to end 2017 by being able to point to concrete achievements. To do that, I must focus. 

 

So far this month I've done pretty damn well on the financial front. I've brown-bagged it and stuck to my budget. Yea me!

 

Where I've fallen short is on my housework/discipline issues. I found a bug in the bathroom this morning -- EW! ICK! -- and while it was not one of the building's dread bed bugs that bedeviled me last summer, it was a reminder that I am a piglet and must get off the dime and do something.

 

And that's simply what I must do -- something. Every day. At least 15 minutes. Starting with the baseboard behind the toilet where I saw that dead bug this morning. There's only one person who can improve the way I live and that's me. And all I have to do to accomplish it is FOCUS.

OneWord: Continuing to FOCUS

FOCUS

verb

to concentrate: to focus one's thoughts

My goal in 2017 is to be able to point to concrete achievements, accomplished because I continued to FOCUS. Here it is Wednesday, and I've saved approximately $15 by brown-bagging it twice this week and last night I took a bag of magazines out to the recycling bin.

Do $15 and a bag of paper make an appreciable dent in my debt or my clutter? No. But the saving and disposing do make me feel better about myself and make me want to continue in this vein.

I did something!

Of all my messy rooms, my den is the messiest. And unfortunately, I knew that my birth certificate was somewhere in there. I need that document because soon IL drivers' licenses won't be accepted by the TSA, and I'll need a passport just to fly from here to ... wherever I fly next. (Los Angeles? Williamsburg? Memphis? Boston? Atlanta?)

I found it. Yea!

Even better, while in there, I went through the closet. I'm parting with a lot of clothes. Most are going to Goodwill. I've set aside the better pieces for consignment. The middling pieces and the pieces that are for spring/summer are going to my sister and niece. I'm very proud of myself.

I was also happy to take stock of all the sweaters I never wore last year. The pullover I impulsively bought at Old Navy just before Christmas looks to be the only new addition to my wardrobe this winter, but it's the only thing I think I need.

Unfortunately, the room is still a hideous mess. I'll fill a bag of trash before I go to bed tonight. It'll barely make a dent. But I know I've done something and that knowledge makes me feel better.

What I was reading in the Spring of 1986

I locked myself in the den and spent an hour going through my books. I am parting with three bags full of paperbacks and hardcovers. Sigh. I hate doing it.

In concept, that is. In reality, it's not so hard.

Take, for example, Martina Navritalova's 1985 autobiography. I don't care much about Russia,* nor have I been interested in tennis since Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe retired. Yet for some reason, I bought and read this book. I found the ATM receipt and Burger King coupons -- which expired in September, 1986 -- that I used as bookmarks.

Judging by the bookmarks, I did plough through it. But I remember nothing about it and will never read it again. And so it's off to Goodwill. With bags and bags of others.

I have more books to go through. And then there are the audiobooks. But I'm done for tonight. What I've put aside is already too much for the bus and will require a $12 cab ride. I promised myself I'd take one bag of stuff over to Goodwill every month in 2015, and this is one resolution I'll make good on.

*Sorry, but I never have. I have a very American-centric world view.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Now that January 2015 is one for the record books, it's time to look back at how I'm doing with my resolution to work out, save money and improve my personal environment.

The Good. This being more careful with my money thing is working out well. By being more thoughtful about where I spend and what I spend it on, I was able to save $40, which I put toward my Associated Bank Visa card. It's easier and more satisfying than I thought it would be.

The Bad. I haven't kept up with cleaning and purging. I've been too exhausted by drama. There's been drama at work and drama with my condo association and it's been too easy and too comforting to just curl up on my lumpy futon and crash.

The Ugly. I haven't worked out with my trainer in months, and the weight I lost before Christmas is back. I eat way too much salt and sugar. I must stop this.

I'm trying not to slide into self-shaming. I fucked up. So be it. February is a new month. All I can do is redouble my efforts to stay Good and ease some of my Bad and Ugly behavior over.

Three for three!

On Monday I brought my lunch, did 10 minutes of floor exercises and 25 minutes on the stationery bike, and I went through every item on my kitchen counter and am parting with a lot of crap-- including but not limited to expired coupons and OTC meds.

I wish I could honestly report that my home is looking so much better since January 1, but I'd be lying. The important thing is that I'm keeping this promise to myself and am improving my personal and financial environment.

I'm learning that's a key part of this -- to remind myself that deserve better surroundings. I'm the only one who can make this happen, and so I shall.