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Tag Archives: Cleaning Up


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Cleaning Up 2019

The last day of the year seems like a good time to do a little housekeeping, both literally and figuratively.

Literally speaking, I’m still slowing putting my master bedroom and bathroom back together (and don’t even ask me about my closet). Having a full on renovation really took a toll on this house. Sure, the result is incredible, but the aftermath is not much fun. Still, as I soak in my six-foot tub or indulge in a shower that’s more lovely than any other I’ve ever used, I don’t mind the mess as much.

At least I finally feel like I have some time to tame the mess. Being a teacher is really a gift at this time of year. There’s time to catch up on appointments and chores, and there’s also time to relax, recharge, and reinvent myself and my practice. Teaching is an art, and like any art it requires reflection and refinement. This time off allows me to focus on those things. Nothing like being alone in a quiet house (well, with the dog) to force you to face what’s going on around you.

What’s going on around me (or maybe inside me) is a desire to bring my life back into balance. That means more focus on home and family, more focus on long-range goals, and more focus on what success means to me. This is where paying off my credit card bill (which I had always done in the past, but somehow lost track of), cleaning up my house (it’s getting there), and working on becoming a National Board Certified Teacher (this is kind of overwhelming) come into play. Add in a few interesting life twists (all good) and you’ve got a 2019 that I’m ready to pack away in favor of a bright, shiny, new 2020. It’s going to be a busy one, but a good one, I can just tell. I wish you a bright, shiny 2020 as well.


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And Procrastination Wins, Again

I was going to clean up the room that I call my studio. I really had good intentions. I also had the time, since I was on Spring Break. However… it didn’t happen. Until tonight. When it sort of happened. Partially happened. Well, something happened.

I feel like I did a lot. I sorted through stacks and stacks of papers. You know the stuff I’m talking about, I’m sure. There are statements from my health insurance company, assuring me that they are not bills, there are high school report cards of my son’s from five years ago, there are mortgage statements from four lenders ago, there’s a stack of pay-stubs from my employer, sadly not showing much change over the years. There are SO MANY PAPERS!

I decided that I no longer need credit card statements from five years ago. I no longer need a home warranty for a home I sold a while back. I no longer need billing statements from my son’s orthodontist (who I think has retired). I no longer need discharge instructions from a hospital visit three years ago. It’s time to be free of all those papers. It’s time to warm up the shredder.

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Shredding papers is such a permanent act, but one that gives me great satisfaction. Once the paper hits the blades, there’s no turning back. Whatever you’ve fed into that machine is now confetti, never to be read again.

I like the idea of all those words, all those statements and bills and records and reports all mixing together and jumbling up inside the belly of the shredder. I imagine it to be some sort of demented corporate party in there, all the letters released from their original duties. They are free, no longer confined to sharing dosing instructions or charges to the grocery store, gas station, and Target. No longer shouting out my name and address for just anyone to read. Once they get into that shredder, they no longer know their original mission. It’s just gone. Like the pile of papers I fed into the machine a few minutes ago.

It was quite an effort, but I’m glad at least part of the task has been completed. As for the rest of the room? Maybe during summer break. We’ll see.


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Stop. And Breathe. Crisis Cleaning Rears its Ugly Head

garbiketa.jpgI’m working myself into fits and I need to stop. I feel like I’m spinning in circles, rushing from one room of my house to another tidying this, straightening that, dusting this bit off, putting this thing away at last, only to to see a thousand more of these items to do. It’s productive, to a degree, but it’s making my anxiety level climb, so here I sit. Breathing. Good.

Why all this nervous rushing about? Because after living in this house for four years my friend is finally coming over to see it. My friend, whose beautiful new(ish) home I saw for the first time a couple of weeks ago. My friend, whose home is perfect.

I know, I know…

I’m NOT comparing my home to hers. They are different. We are different people at different stages. I have a dog (yep, blame it on the dog… she won’t mind), my friend doesn’t. I have a college kid here for the summer, she doesn’t. I have a blended household, she doesn’t. I work full-time (except in the summer, but shh), she doesn’t. Still, her house is CLEAN, and mine? Well, it isn’t.

So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to post this (yep, warts and all) then drag out the vacuum cleaner, see if I can find some Windex, and call it done. Oh wait, I’m supposed to meet her in half an hour and I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. Yeah, maybe the other stuff just won’t happen. She’ll love me anyway, won’t she? I hope so. And exhale…