When did I become such a pack rat? I literally dwell in a cave of clutter. I have many valid reasons...1) I am an artist/crafter, I'll use that someday.; 2) We live in a modest home, small homes just exaggerate the mess; 3) I am just too tired to organize, if only you could do it in your sleep; 4) No help to master this disaster, no one wants to partner up with that. I know I can't live like this forever, when are those home organizing shows gonna come to my neck of the woods?
The hardest part in this discovery of my present situation is that I was never like this before. Even before OCD was a commonly used acronym, I definitely had it or at least a smidge. A wrinkle in the made bed would send shivers down my spine when I was a kid. I loved to go to other people's homes as a guest and clean their dishes and help out around the house. Weird, right? I had folders and containers marked and every photograph titled and placed. I even started on class assignments ahead of time even though they weren't due for weeks. I was the organizing queen and then I got dethroned about four years ago.
The excuse of being an artist is a crafty excuse and I do have boxes of actual inventory and materials. My downfall is that almost everything I see could be of value and used in a creative way. I kicked the habit of collecting, going on a year now and am proud of my accomplishment. However, I have an accomplice who unloads unusual and often not usable chachkis on my doorstep. You know the old cliche, take one step forward, two steps back...it really applies to me. I've confronted this person with an open yet friendly manner with regard to my situation but I keep getting back,"Well I thought you could use it somehow, I don't know how but I'm sure you'll make it work". Thanks for the confidence but giving me more stuff is not going to help with my problem. Uggghhh.
We do live in a small home and when you have some papers here a project over there, things start shaping to look like a construction zone. All the organizing bins in all the world just don't matter because there's no space to put 'em. I do have visions of grandeur though where things are magically put in their proper place and everything is right with the world. By five o'clock p.m., a different scenario presents itself, where there seems to be no trace of that so called fairy dust and the magical doings-not even a hint.
The hardest part in this discovery of my present situation is that I was never like this before. Even before OCD was a commonly used acronym, I definitely had it or at least a smidge. A wrinkle in the made bed would send shivers down my spine when I was a kid. I loved to go to other people's homes as a guest and clean their dishes and help out around the house. Weird, right? I had folders and containers marked and every photograph titled and placed. I even started on class assignments ahead of time even though they weren't due for weeks. I was the organizing queen and then I got dethroned about four years ago.
The excuse of being an artist is a crafty excuse and I do have boxes of actual inventory and materials. My downfall is that almost everything I see could be of value and used in a creative way. I kicked the habit of collecting, going on a year now and am proud of my accomplishment. However, I have an accomplice who unloads unusual and often not usable chachkis on my doorstep. You know the old cliche, take one step forward, two steps back...it really applies to me. I've confronted this person with an open yet friendly manner with regard to my situation but I keep getting back,"Well I thought you could use it somehow, I don't know how but I'm sure you'll make it work". Thanks for the confidence but giving me more stuff is not going to help with my problem. Uggghhh.
We do live in a small home and when you have some papers here a project over there, things start shaping to look like a construction zone. All the organizing bins in all the world just don't matter because there's no space to put 'em. I do have visions of grandeur though where things are magically put in their proper place and everything is right with the world. By five o'clock p.m., a different scenario presents itself, where there seems to be no trace of that so called fairy dust and the magical doings-not even a hint.
All the advice in the world from home/style magazines has been read and tried but nowhere do they mention where the motivation will be coming from. I have learned after all, that I'm better at using my collections in my work rather than saving them. I do vow everyday to sum up a bit of vigor and strike away at it again. I do admit to setting myself up for failure when I compare myself to others or to my old self. I'll take my lumps, after all, there are no visits from the health department. Also,being too hard on oneself actually backfires. So where did I put that number for the home organizing show again?
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