Chugging along

This is the third installment of a sporadic series I've come to think of in my mind as the Progress Series. I've never been much of a housekeeper (just ask any of my roommates) but I am turning a corner and making some fun changes in my home. See previous progress entries here and here, if you are so inclined.


In a fun new turn of 'Something's Wrong with Ashley' events, I started having back spasms last weekend. (I kept having visions of 'turning into my dad,' who has dealt with these nasty things for quite some time now.)

There are only so many days in a row that a girl like me can lie flat on her back, hanging out with the ice pack and watching a Top Model marathon. So when I felt good enough to move around some, I decided tackle the (*ahem*) two-foot high pile of papers to file, most of which was lounging on top of my file cabinet.

There are no before photos.

But check out the result!

Oh, wait. I pulled from the wrong folder. Here...

The plant is a succulent called Chocolate Soldier. 

Seriously. Imagine a stack 2 feet high of papers, notebooks, folders, who knows what, and some other stuff there, and then look again...

Notice the bowl. I'm about to talk about it.

That silver bowl is an antique Homan silver. My former boss friend Cathy is a direct descendent of the silversmith, and she gave me that bowl (along with a tall water pitcher and creamer) as a going-away present when we moved out here. I used to keep my spools of colored thread in it, but those have been tossed in a baggie and will find a new home somewhere else. Eventually.

The candle and pinecone probably won't live there forever. The candle was necessary to clear the air after an indoor 'incident' with the puppy this morning, and the pinecone is something I picked up today on one of our morning walks because it was so oddly shaped. I don't know where it's going to live yet.

See how the pinecone is kinda bent in the middle?

The yarn is some yarn I got for like 55% off at Tuesday Morning a few weeks ago (I have big plans for that yarn, so be on the lookout) and the little jar has shells and stone and little corals I've picked up along the way. Most of them came from the shores of North Carolina, but a few are from other beaches I've visited - including a few from our honeymoon in Hawaii (See here, here, here and especially here for more on that).

So anyway. Instead of a giant stack of guilt-inducing eyesore atop my little blue cabinet right in the middle of the living room, I've got a little collection of happy memories and things I love.

And now, I'm off to find a home for that pine cone.

Progress

For the past couple of months, I have been living with a lot of frustration, mostly over matters of my own doing. I'm not a very good decorator, you see, and I've been trying to set up our new home for a few months now. Somewhere in January, I hit a wall.

The furniture was all in its permanent homes, but questions on what to put where plagued me, in a near-continual barrage. Combine that with the challenges of a new puppy and everything that goes into building a freelance business, not to mention a lifetime's worth of 'I just don't know how to make an organized living arrangement' doubts, and maybe you can see why I got stuck.

And then I got sick, and I spent a lot more of February on the couch than I care to admit. By the third week of February, I was ready to take action. No more of this hemming and hawing and spending too much time 'thinking.' It was time to start doing. So I picked the things that were bugging me the most about the apartment, and I made a plan. (My friend Kaylene's awesome home tour might also have had something to do with my newfound motivation.)

First up: the carpets needed work. We have a little SpotBot that works great for those errant stains (and times when the puppy doesn't know she needs to go outside until about 2 seconds before it's too late). But then Rory started showing allergies to the food she was on, and one of the symptoms I will simply refer to as 'unhappy explosions.' And we were having unhappy explosions two and sometimes three times a day. The sheer volume was disturbing, and the fact that I was also ill and couldn't devote the amount of time to carpet scrubbing as was needed made things that much worse. It didn't take long for me to find a carpet shampooer on Craigslist for a doable $50 (my antibiotic drugs cost more!) and, after hunting down and then retrieving a missing part, my carpets have had a nice bath. Ah. Safe to breathe again.

So what was next? Here, I'll let you see for yourself:

Rory would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that she is, in fact, a border collie, and as such, she must be involved in anything and everything that is or might be going on.

That, my friends, is the cedar chest my dad made for me a couple of years ago. It lives in the entryway. And given its proximity to the entry/exit point and its ample flat surface, it has lived in shame. For three and a half months.

But not anymore. Its days of screaming for attention are over. Kaylene gave me some really good ideas, and off I went. (Someday I do hope to implement her lantern idea!) I raided my shelf of 'decorative items' which basically consists of various candle holders and vases, and this is what I came up with.

I still haven't figured out how to work with this hazy western light! 

The trunk is clear, and on its top I've put some candles and a little dish to catch keys and other various doodads.

It's like a breath of fresh air. You know? I feel like I'm finally making some progress on those sore spots that have bugged me for a while now.

E-book Review: Simplify

My husband and I live a fairly low-maintenance life. We avoid credit card debt, we cook at home the vast majority of evenings, and we talk about ways we can cut back at home and give more to our friends, church, and community. I work from home as a freelance editor and Brian pays the bills with a "real" job as an associate minister. We get by just fine, and we are pretty happy.

Unfortunately, though, we have a lot of stuff. And this bugs me. I always wanted to pare down and simplify, but I never actually did it. I used to think I didn't have the energy - and in part, this was true. But moreso, I didn't have the know-how. I had Flylady and Rachel Anne Ridge from Home Sanctuary to help me limp along - and these ladies are tremendous help - but for the longest time, I never felt that solid, resounding click that I needed to gain some real momentum.

In September of 2009, I discovered the Becoming Minimalist blog, and I found what I think of as 'real life minimalism.' There are minimalists (like Everett Bogue of Far Beyond the Stars and Leo Batauba of Zen Habits &c.) who are so inspiring and impressive, and then there are other minimalists. Minimalists for the rest of us. Minimalists for people like me. Becker calls them "rational minimalists."

Brian and I can't live with 100 things or fewer without harming our life work - which is ministering to people. I mean, we could, but it wouldn't be an effective choice for us. Our home needs to feel welcoming, comfortable and inviting. We as a couple do not get that vibe from bare-bones living.

Additionally, I like to see beauty and sentiment when I look around my home. I love my MacBook, but I'm not going to hang it on the wall and feel better for it. It'd take a strong arm to make me part with our wedding portrait or my great aunt's lace doilies. Stark walls and bare, purely utilitarian elements would suck the life right out of me. 

But flat surfaces? Yes, please. Counters with room to do food prep? Yes, please. Limited but sufficient options for mugs, or sheets, or photo albums? Yes, please. That's the kind of minimalism Joshua Becker writes about at Becoming Minimalist. So when Becker mentioned on the blog that he was offering advance copies of the e-book for review, I jumped.

This where my comments on Simplify come in. Becker wrote this e-book in the same vein that he writes his blog. Which is to say, it is personable, transparent, and accessible. In short, I think this is a great e-book for people like me.

Simplify sets out 7 basic principles for becoming minimalist. Each principle is fleshed out with personal stories from Becker, questions to consider, and bigger ideas to ponder. Numerous benefits of minimalism are spelled out, similarly to those on the website. Becker also provides his family's process for uncluttering and breaking free from the desire to buy and buy and buy, which can be helpful if you're new to those games. He suggests tips for time management, prioritizing, and attacking every angle of 'minimalizing' your life. Overall, the material is compelling and direct without being preachy or stand-offish. If anything, it's encouraging.

My favorite line from Simplify comes from the chapter on Principle #5, Persevere: Stop trying to impress others with your stuff and start trying to impress them with your life.  

Really, is there anything more compelling, and true, than that?

Let's face it. Not all of us can quit our jobs, pack all our stuff into a box, and move to New Orleans on a whim. Not all of us want to be able to do that. The choices the Beckers make are significant, but they are realistic. I never balked at something Becker suggests, the way I balk at the idea of tracking (and listing!) the exact number of my possessions, or living from a back pack, or making my guests stand or sit on the floor because I don't want two more chairs in my living room. There's nothing wrong with those lifestyle choices, but they would not be right for me. And Simplify makes that ok.

Simplify doesn't disappoint. It's practical, it's accessible, and it's real. If I had a hard copy, I would claim that I couldn't put it down, but instead, I will tell you that I didn't watch the Olympic ice dancing because I wanted to finish reading Simplify instead.

If you are like me - you want to simplify your life but you need something to inspire you to quit thinking about why you can't, and start the process of becoming minimalist - you will benefit from reading Simplify.

**Note: all links to Simplify are affiliate links. Should you purchase the book, I will receive a commission.

New Year, So What

I generally stick to a MWF post schedule - generally - but I haven't posted in almost a week. Each time I've sat here, determined to write something to share with y'all, I get nothing. And it's my fault.

You see, everybody else out there is posting their resolutions goals for the new year (and calling them goals, eschewing the outmoded notion of 'new year's resolutions' for some strange reason). And while that's all well and good for them, I'm not there yet. I don't really know what my concrete goals are. Which makes me feel like I have nothing to say, this first week of January.

But I do know what I want, in a vague and unattainable but easily shaped and mapped out way. And it's not confined to a calendar year. The start date isn't January 1 and the cutoff isn't December 31. I'm talking an overhaul on my (our) modus operandi.  I want less so that I can have more. This is something I worked toward last year as we prepared to move, and have continued to do as I unpack all of our belongings and decide what stays and what goes.


What does that mean? Here are some of my thoughts.

I want less stuff, to have more space to live. Lower spending to have higher savings and maybe a house toward the end of the year. Less time wasted (hello, Google Reader) to give way to more time spent on things that matter (like reading, and drumming up some freelance work, and knitting, and walking the dogs an hour or so each day). Less time being 'busy' at home, where I am alone and isolated, and more time being OUT, doing things, seeing people, making friends.

Less pee in the carpet, so the smell is less bad, so that I can invite [more] people over. Rory, I'm looking at you.

I think my overall approach to this new year - this new life in Colorado, really - is to simply. Take a look around, boil everything down to the essentials, and free up the time, the space, the resources and the brain power, to do the things that really matter to us. We have so much stuff, so much going on, so many to-dos. How much of it actually matters? And what is it preventing us from having, or doing, or spending time on?

People. Eli and Rory. Giving. Becoming more self-reliant. Getting outdoors. Traveling around this new state of ours. For me, having high-quality yarn is big. As is learning how to grow things. And spending a lot of quiet time, learning who I am and letting Ashley come through, rather than studying up on how I 'should' be or look or do or decorate. (Brian might add sub-zero sleeping bags and trips to the lake and these things called Yak Tracks.)

I really want to get rid of the white noise in our lives, so to speak. Make more room for people, not stuff, as my sister-in-law aptly put it. That's what I want this year.

What about you?

purses

At the beginning of this year, I carried a pretty big purse because I was job-hunting and I needed to keep my records, job descriptions, spare resumes, etc. with me. The bag I got was a really great shade of plummy purple, and it was tall enough to keep a portfolio but not HUGE - it had a slim profile.

After I started full-time permanent work, I didn't need to keep carrying around my portfolio. I lost the paperwork but kept the giant bag. And I bred in myself a new kind of crazy. My purse became the thing I've often sworn it would never become: a giant pothole of cluttery papery doom, heavy and lumpy and not convenient at all, attached to my shoulder and requiring me to adjust my stance just to port it.

NOT COOL.

Around the same time I decided I was going to lose my mind if something purse-ular didn't change and soon, I stumbled across a bin of my 'spring purses' (whatever that meant) up in the attic. Small cute bags! many of which I've had for years and still love! Perfect. Time for the switcharoo and re-establishment of at least one sector of sanity in my jumbled-up head. I picked out my favorite, a cheery little bucket bag from Coach a la 2002ish, with red and white and various-shades-of-blue stripes. It is SO CUTE and actually does not clash with a good portion of the outfits I wear.

This is it. Frugalista purse nirvana. I love it, I didn't have to buy it, and it's too SMALL to get cluttered up and jumbled, right?

Say it with me: WRONG.

I am now faced with a super-cute bag that is big enough for just the essentials, though I am not really a 'just-the-essentials' kind of girl. Time for a new strategy. I think it's time to be a grown-up and actually clean out and declutter my purse on a regular basis. Because clearly I have a problem.

Do you carry a purse, backpack, handbag, briefcase, or other related carry-all? How often do you find it needed to be cleared out?

Resolutions for the New Year

I'm not big on Resolutions, especially general or complicated ones.  I like them to be specific, and I like them to be realistic.  Some years, the only resolution is to survive intact.  I didn't make any last year.

The thing is, I don't really rely on a new year to set a new goal.  I like to incorporate changes and adjustments as the need, and my ability, arises.  So these are the things I would like to get jump-started early in this new year.

1. Find balance and satisfaction at work

2. Get a few things organized (specifically, my camera equipment, our toiletries supplies, our linens situation, and my yarn stash)  

3. Be more active, and include the dog (this pertains to #1)

4. Join a knitting group

5. Continue decluttering 

6. Take more pictures

7. Introduce a modicum of menu-planning

Do you make resolutions?  What are some things you would like to change, or incorporate into your life?

booking through thursday

The Setup, from the Booking through Thursday website:

Okay–here was an interesting article by Christopher Schoppa in the Washington Post.

Avid readers know all too well how easy it is to acquire books — it’s the letting go that’s the difficult part. … During the past 20 years, in which books have played a significant role in both my personal and professional lives, I’ve certainly had my fair share of them (and some might say several others’ shares) in my library. Many were read and saved for posterity, others eventually, but still reluctantly, sent back out into the world.

But there is also a category of titles that I’ve clung to for years, as they survived numerous purges, frequent library donations and countless changes of residence. I’ve yet to read them, but am absolutely certain I will. And should. When, I’m not sure, as I’m constantly distracted by the recent, just published and soon to be published works.

So, the question is his: “What tomes are waiting patiently on your shelves?“

The answer:

SO MANY. There are so many books I have kept around because I am just waiting for the day for the right mood to strike, the right amount of free time, and optimal interplanetary alignment to cause me to pick up "that book" and get it read.

I appear to have made the commitment to read more books this year, as evidenced by my have-read list (look over to the left), which is already tremendously longer this year than it's been in a long time. The majority of these are books that had sat on my shelves, through two moves, just waiting to be read. Some are books from the library that I'd been meaning to read for years (the Narnia books, Friday Night Knitting Club, Kitchen Privileges). Only three of these books are new acquisitions (Wild at Heart, Sushi for Beginners, and Balzac) through PaperBackSwap. Peace, Evensong, Monk and North Haven are required reading for the class I'm taking. All the rest are mine and had been mine for quite some time.

You should probably know that I cull my books at least once a month. I've also stopped requesting books on PBS unless I really need or really want them - no more 'hey that sounds good' requests. My ultimate goal is to have my collection whittled down to just the essentials - the most loved, most useful, and most sentimental books.  And I'm proud to say that the out-going stream is a little swifter than the in-coming one.  I'm also making good friends with the neighborhood library branch.  In the meantime, I've got shelves and stacks and piles to get through.

Right now most of my reading is for my Theology in Literature class. It's a great class and I love the reading list, but I do have a moderate amount of baseline frustration that I'm not making any "progress" (and in fact, I'm ADDING to the list of tomes I ultimately want to read). But with that said, a sampling of the titles up to bat once I finish the class include:

First Things First, by Stephen Covey

The Artist's Way, by Julia Cameron

Blue Like Jazz, by Donald Miller

As usual, we'll see what book ends up screaming the loudest when I'm browsing for a new read.

time management

I recently took a time management course through the Especially for Nonprofits program at VCU. It was awesome. The professor was (and is) Elaine Kiziah and she is FANTASTIC. Mucho recommendo.

Time management is one of those wonky things that demands a somewhat significant investment up front from people who don't have the time to spare in the first place. The thing is, you just have to carve it out to make it happen, and it might take more than a day. Funny how that works. But in the same way you have to spend money to make money, you have to find time to make time.

One of the books we talked about was Getting Things Done, by David Allen. I haven't had a chance to read the book yet, but I did page through a copy and I've familiarized myself with his processes a bit via blogs and podcasts. His method is all about maximizing every minute you have, to build toward your bigger goals. (Other folks like to look at the big goals and use a more top-down method for productivity.)

One of his hacks is the thing I like to call 43 Folders (mostly because I used to listen to a podcast called 43 Folders, and I never knew what it meant until I took this course). It's a tickler file - a system for having a folder for every day of the year. It's meant to be a home for physical items that you need to deal with on a given day in the future.

When I moved into my office, I'd 'inherited' this weird container thing for hanging files - it's almost like half a mesh file box, minus the lid part.  Or something.  So I pulled that out and filled it with my 43 folders - one with each number, 1-31, and one with each month of the year.  This is set up so that each day of the year has its own folder.  1-31 apply to the rest of this month and the beginning of next month, and the files are slipped behind the folder for next month, as the days go by.

SO, today, October 6, I will go into my office and see my tickler.  The folder with #6 on it will be in the front, with 7 and so on behind it.  Behind 31 is the November folder, and behind November is folders 1-5.  behind 5 is December, January and so on up through October.  I'll pull out folder 6, which is for today, take out the contents, and slip it behind the 5.  It becomes the November 6 folder.

It's really easy to use.  For example, if I have a meeting next Thursday but I got the agenda in my email today, I can go ahead and print the stuff out and stick it in the 16 folder. That way it's out of my inbox, I can check that off my to-do list, and it's in a safe spot until I need it.  And if I get an invitation for a dinner next March 23rd, I mark my calendar and then stick the directions in the March folder. When I've made my way to March, I'll pull out the folder, distribute all the items to their date folders, and stick March in the back for next year.

I really hemmed and hawed about making this tickler, for some reason. I kept thinking I could come up with a system that would work better for me. Maybe I could, if I really wanted to sit down and plan, or research all over, but this one works just fine and I had the stuff to make it happen. Besides, I had already missed 2 days of work taking this class and I needed to put some of this time management/productivity business to work, fast!

It's pretty janky-looking, because all the folders are recycled so they're soft and ratty and have writing all ove rthem, and actually that drives me crazy a little bit. (I also realized in this time management class that I am a visual learner, and I'd had no idea how greatly visual clutter distracted me until now.) But, I work for a nonprofit. And Lord knows I don't have the spare cash to get it myself, right now. Maybe when the Staples Reward check comes in.

The system is pretty cool, really. There's a folder for each month, and then for eacy number, 1-31. Combining these in the right order gets you through every day of the year. Pretty sweet, no?  You can learn more about ticklers here or here and you can see some photos on flickr.  It's a great tool, and I'm thinking of a way to adapt the system for home use too.
 
Anybody out there looking to get rid of some clean manilla folders?

the necklace post

You know how sometimes one tiny simple little change can make a world of difference?

One of the things I inherited from my mom is an affinity for jewelry.  I also inherited her tendency to wear only a few different pieces, despite really really liking just about everything in the jewelry box.

I am a major culprit of 'out of sight, out of mind' -ism and I've been spending some months at home and at work coming up with solutions to help me NOT forget about things.  So as such, my jewelry box, which basically would hide my stuff from me, was not being my friend.

Sometime back when it was cold, I decided I wanted to get a necklace stand to display all my cool metallic stuffs.  I ended up finding this sweet wall-mounted one on etsy, handmade from copper wires.  It's awesome; I just wish that I'd ordered the bigger one!  As it is, it's nearly reached capacity with only about 2/3 of my collection.  The stuff that needs repair, needs cleaning, or is (now) ugly still sits in the box, to be resurrected someday maybe.

And you know how everyone says that you should make an effort, every day, to do some self-care?  Well, for me, I decided that I'd like to look nicer.  I'm not really a great dresser, I would rather sleep than get up early to style my hair, and putting together an entire, complete ensemble has always been a challenge for me.  Just ask my high school friends.

(On second thought, don't.)

But in this whole weird intertwined self-helpy developmental PROCESS I've been going through lately, I began to want to know how to look better -- along with learning how to make my house look better, and finding ways to get my stuff done more reliably and more efficiently.  You know, learning how to get my act together on all fronts.  Self respect, self care, blah  blah.

Enter this one tool, and poof.  Big difference in my appearance AND my psyche.

Celebrate the small stuff, people.  There's way more of the small stuff.

in case you were wondering:

Space bags are not the answer!

and that is all.

some real truth

You can't organize clutter.  You just can't.  

The only way to solve your 'organization' problems is to get rid of everything that you don't need, use, or love.

we live in our homes

One of the biggest lessons I'm learning lately is how not to be so hard on myself about the condition of my house. It's not a disaster, after all. No, it's not finished, it's not perfect, the guest room is still mostly boxes... but all in all, we're doing pretty well I think, especially for this being our FIRST home and we don't exactly have money for the 'perfect' furniture, let alone furniture that can be contorted into some form of usefulness.

It's hard for me to concede that houses should be lived in. I am always disappointed when I walk in and see things that are out of place. I still get dismayed about 'the state of things' when really, it usually would only take about 20 minutes of picking up to have things ready for company to come over - with the exception of the bedrooms and the office, but company wouldn't need to go in there.

I beat myself up over things that don't matter. So what about the pile of laundry? EVERYBODY has a pile of laundry! So I haven't entirely unpacked. Some people take YEARS to unpack! So what if the house isn't ready for a photo shoot. It's our first home, and it's my first house. It's not meant to be perfect.

All these people that I know and compare myself to...I need to stop doing that. I have peers who have it together better than I do. They got jobs faster, they got their first house faster, they don't have the worries we had when we first started out. They settled immediately, they got their artwork hung, they had all the right furniture. And no piles and boxes. Immediately.

I am not them. I have never been like them. I might not ever be like them.

I need to deal with this.

The pile of dishes are indicative of our living in our house. Ditto the laundry. Ditto the mis-aligned furniture and the piles of books and the stack of mail.

Yes, I have some bad habits to break. We all do. The thing is, I have a hard time remembering how far I've come. Floor space, if not visible, is always just a couple of minutes away. I'm finding things to sell or give away at a fairly rapid rate; I'm rediscovering things that I do love and will use.

no more stuff n' things

Can I just say, it feels SO good to have unloaded all those things yesterday. I feel like I have my living room back! I can see floor space in every room!

I was also delighted as I went through the mail last night. Yesterday we received a small packet from something called 'Our Town Virginia' which contained a number of coupons and some GIFT CERTIFICATES for goodies, including a Little Caesar's pizza (hubby likes to go there) and an OIL CHANGE, which we'd been planning to get anyway. Nothing like a free oil change to cheer you up when 'replace timing belt' is looming on the immediate horizon!

A new reason to love Richmond: we found a couple of different garages who will replace the timing belt about 100 bucks LESS than the Consumer Reports estimate. Score!!

in which we bore you to tears

I thought it might help kick-start the motivation to make sporadic public declarations of my progress in settling into the house and simultaneously preparing for our next move, whenever/wherever that may be.

Last month I got rid of a lot of things - about two plastic bins worth of stuff, and a crap-ton of plain old trash (and recycling). I still have half of one bin that nobody seems to want, so it'll be making its way to the thrift stores...eventually...

The one room in the house that I can consistently keep up is the bathroom. Honestly it's just too small and used too frequently to allow it to get out of control. Being forced to cut back on all my 'bathroom stuff' has been really good for me, though, seeing as I've long been one to collect lotions and gels and goops of all sorts. It's easy to say no, now. (For the record, soap is most likely to get used, and I love special soaps! Lotions, on the other hand, have a sad sad history with me.) Because this room is so small, it's not intimidating. I can handle it. And it never gets messy enough to get scary. The only time I spend more than about 6 minutes cleaning the bathroom is when I'm scrubbing the tub.

A couple of rooms are in ok shape and aren't ideal, but usually still functional. One is our bedroom. There are always piles of clothes and a little bit of other misc, but we rarely have trouble walking...my how low the standards are... I'm working at reducing the clothing piles bit by bit, and if nothing else, maintaining them instead of making them bigger... It's slow going, but bite by bite it's coming along. There's one corner of my dresser that I saw almost every day for a week. (granted, it's gone now...but not for long!) It's not much, but it's something...and I'll take anything right now. It's coming along. And we make the bed almost every day, which is nice. It's like an oasis of clean and smooth...

Another room that's hit-or-miss is the kitchen. There are just some days when I plain old forget to do dishes. Other days, I am too busy or just undisciplined. In the winter, we could eat dinner there. In January, I felt like things were coming together. Somewhere in there, it all fell apart and I felt so overwhelmed that I couldn't even handle going into the kitchen. It was terrible...I felt terrible. I'm not sure when I decided to buck up and handle it, but it happened a few weeks ago maybe, and since then it's been a slow steady climb toward having my counter and table back. I realized the other day that it would take maybe 5 or 6 minutes to get it to the point where we could start eating dinner in there again. That's becomig important to me. It will happen, maybe in the next day or so even.

A couple of big but simple things need to happen for the rest of the house to come along. I have a pile of dresses that I need to find something to do with - old prom and bridesmaid dresses. As soon as they go off to consignment or charity land, and this old dresser set sells, I can arrange the guest room...which means that the guest room furniture can go into its room and out of my dining room, which means I will once again have access to my attic, which means that more sorting and settling and tossing can occur. It all depends on me deciding what to do with these dresses.

Then we can tackle the office. And after that, we can go back through what's in the attic and clear out even more.

A plan, see? A plan!

waiting for....

Sometimes I feel stuck. like I'm treading water. like I'm waiting for something that's coming, but I don't know what it is and I don't know how long it'll take.

For a while, it was "after I move, I'll..." Then it was after the wedding. Then it was after I found a J-O-B.

Now, I've got it all. The house, that I'll be renting for at least the next 14 months. The supportive husband. The job. The stability. I have everything I thought I was waiting for.

I don't know why I still feel so stuck. And I'm tired, all the time. There is no inspiration or motivation or anything useful. I'm not sleeping well - something I'm used to when I'm anxious about something. But where's the anxiety now? What do I have to worry about?

I've been in this house since August. And yet, it feels like I just moved in. My artwork isn't hung. My clutter isn't sorted. My spare room isn't arranged. There are still boxes. Brian's just as unhappy about his office.

We finally have enough money not to worry, and I can even afford things like buying our FICO scores and Rescue Remedy for the dog. I can make doctor and dentist appointments. I can get my shoe fixed. We can get our suits and our wool coats cleaned. I can get some of my artwork framed or re-framed. I can set aside money for the car's 100,000 mile tune-up and STILL grow savings, if only just a little bit. Soon I'll be able to open a retirement account.

The things I don't want around are slowly going out the door. Not as quickly as I'd like, but leaving nonetheless. Sometimes they even leave cash in my hand! But why am I waiting until I "finish decluttering" to make my house beautiful? Why is all my artwork stacked along one wall until I'm ready to hang it? Why have I not yet felt ready to stop treading water and start moving forward?

I know a lot of people get stuck in ruts lasting much longer than 8 or 9 months. Some people get stuck for decades. I desperately don't want that to be me.

I feel happy right now. I feel really content. Things are going so well for us right now and I'm not scared of the future anymore. I'm also not so obsessed with the past. Stuff that used to bother me a lot just doesn't seem important now; I don't get overwhelmed as easily, either.

Maybe I lived in such a "can't act now" mentality long enough to make it hard to get going again. Maybe somewhere deep down, I'm scared that things could get just as bad, or worse. Sort of like the folks living in the Great Depression. Or could it be that I'm so used to being anxoius about the future that the fear is so deeply ingrained now that I don't even recognize it anymore?

I have nothing to be afraid of. I have more stability now than I've had in a long time. I even have a bit of a goal or a game plan - the next time we move, I want to take a lot less with us. Simple, yes? But shedding pounds and boxes of 'stuff' takes time and persistence and a steady hand.

I've spent the majority of my years dealing with something my mom once called 'emotional inconsistency.' In my world, it almost always felt like I was either heading into a storm, surviving it, or recovering from it. And the times when I didn't feel like I was in survival mode, I felt the way I do now...disoriented. It's almost like I don't know what to do when I'm not plodding along. I'm good at the grin-and-bear-it routine. I'm good at forcing myself to 'keep moving.' I just don't know how to run free, or even coast.

I LOVE this quietness, the simplicity, the ease of a daily routine with no major issues hounding me. It's just a foreign environment and I don't know how to fit in. So I feel stuck.