The visit from the organizer has done a number on my psyche.
It’s jacked with my zen.
Put a damper on my chi.
It’s been a week, and she left me with what one might call a manageable list.
Except it feels like anything but that…
I hate lists.
They don’t give me a sense of control.
They don’t feel like a way to break down a larger task.
THEY MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A ROYAL FAILURE.
I said it.
Lists make me feel like a failure.
All I see is what I haven’t done.
I once had a therapist tell me that I’m one of those people who should never put more than three items on one to-do list.
I should start SLOW.
So…I tried it.
It was horrid.
I am so challenged. I put three items on the list but I made the items ridiculously complex.
- Do laundry
– So in my mind this meant wash every item in the house whether clean or dirty and put away.
2. Buy groceries
– This meant to stock my pantry for two weeks and meal plan three five-course meals each day (only a slight exaggeration.)
3. Groom dogs
– I have two giant ones who are beyond overdue for baths, flea treatments, etc. They also hate baths.
See, lists are not my friends. Still, my organizer pal (who by the way LOVES lists) convinced me to give lists a try. She was charming and encouraging and made me believe that I could do this. I think she truly believed in me (I have this horrible habit of looking pulled together, competent, in times when I could not be any less together.)
I’ll tell you what I’m best at – convincing people that I have my shit together in spite of the fact that I very much do not. DO NOT.
So…the organizer (ya know, the person who is actually my friend who is very cool and recently started this business AND the person I asked to come and the person I actually paid money I don’t really have) came last Sunday. She was great. She listened and tailored her plan to OUR family and nothing she suggested was over-the-top unmanageable. SHE is not the problem. I am the problem. I’m domestically challenged.
She spent three hours in our home – specifically in our garage/laundry area (yes, I know. It sucks to do laundry in the gritty, greasy, hot as south Georgia summer – imagine going for a two-mile run inside a giant zip-lock bag – yes, welcome to my garage/laundry room.) When she left I felt like I had a plan…but then I got tired and had to make lunches for the next day and get kids bathed while the other adult in the home sat on the couch. Then it was 10pm before I knew it. Then I decided bed was better, so off I went.
Then we did the morning routine that makes me want to sob in my cereal. Then I had to go to work. Then the afternoon came and I had to haul children to after-school activities. Multiply all of this by five days with various junk thrown in…
And… before I knew it Sunday was here again.
And here I sit.
It’s been a week. A full week. My list is nowhere close to being done.
I want to write FAIL in giant red letters across the list…but I’m trying to shift my focus.
Let’s talk about what HAS been done from this three-page list…
1 – I was supposed to find the ironing board. Well, I sort of found it. I remembered that I threw it away during our last move just before our current renters moved in. Check!
2 – Get rid of ugly pink laundry basket. Check! (I also trashed the ugly purple one along with it.)
3 – Check out some laundry room art. Check! I spent at least an hour on Etsy looking at cool wall art I can’t afford. Sigh…
4 – One of the big tasks on the list was to catch up on laundry. I HAVE done that. I’ve streamlined our laundry system (hopefully), and it is moving in the right direction. I’ll give this half a check.
There’s a lot of paperwork that I need to sort through…and I really really really don’t want to do it.
There are loads of notes from my more successful days. I started on one box this evening but after about fifteen minutes I wanted to dive into the tequila bottle and numb numb numb. I’m so down, y’all. I really am.
I know it will get better. I KNOW there are a million people who have it far worse than I do. I KNOW…which honestly perpetuates my guilt and shame. I’m struggling hard in the gratitude department.
Gil and I need to figure out how to ask for the support we need.
I’m truly fed up with our world and with all the hate and mean-spiritedness that seems to be everywhere. I’m tired of people getting killed. Tired of violence. Tired of living in fear.
My writing is gonna be rough for a spell.
It’s going to be raw and negative and jumbly and will likely hop from one topic to the next. I’m going to stick with it though. I’ve been here before and spewing onto the page is ugly, but eventually a sliver of light and hope will emerge. I might not even recognize it at first. I just have to trust that underneath all this depression and angst is something better.
Back to my list.
Until next time, friends. Wishing you a happy week. Keep putting love into the world…even when you don’t feel up to the task. We need it more than ever.