I Can't Read Because of...Piles…of What?

This month our blog was to be about books we've loved and inspired us to set our writerly feet on the path to our own publication. I love reading. I've read into the thousands of books--yes, I'm counting the re-reading of favorites that are like wonderful friends--always there no matter what is happening, any hour, day or night.  But, as an adult, I have to limit my reading time. I hate that. I'm a farmer's wife and an author so I live where I work. No longer do I have long commutes on city buses where I can enjoy reading twice a day. No long hour rides to and from school.  No more mom does the laundry while I hide in the attic, a chore list no-show.

Nope.

I have these piles.

I've had piles. For years.  Piles everywhere. Then I would sort them into usable piles, or so I thought. But really, I was making more piles.

My sister had the very good fortune in her formative years to hire on to a large hotel as a maid and the very, very, good fortune to be trained by an expert in cleaning and efficiency in that hotel. There were random inspections monthly. Should she not pass, she had to re-clean the entire room or suite under the watchful eye of the inspector.

Fast forward thirty years.

You should see my sister’s house.

Recently, she had an ankle injury that put her in a bed or chair for twelve weeks.  She has a husband, who is nice, but not so good at housework at all. She also has two very lively dogs.

I did not do her housework. I was in charge of hauling her to doctors.

After twelve darned weeks her house still looked better than MINE!

That was my breaking point. I have read reams of material on how to keep house and what surfaces need what done to them over the thirty years it has been my job to take care of a home. I have written to Pledge and also called to talk with them at the factory. Pledge gave me back four of the days of my life each year. (I have a LOT of woodwork.) After watching my sister’s house during the recent twelve weeks, I gave up and realized I have a problem. I need retrained.  My sister needed to train me on the way out of my mess.

I made her do it.

First Step: Recognize you have a problem.  No sweat there. I definitely had a problem. I tripped over a pile in the dark as I exited my office. No comment on the outcome….

Second Step: Determine to change.  Oh, yeah, me and my broke t…. are behind some change.

Third Step: Seek a wise leader. Got it! Yes, guilt sister into teaching me.

Fourth Step: Listen to teacher.  That is NOT that easy. Why? Because what she told me was almost directly opposite from everything I’d read. Really.

Fifth Step:  Believe.  Ok, so I had to take another look around her place. I was a believer. She only had to vacuum and dust and she was back in shape on the home front—or so I thought.  She admitted to having to clean the fridge too. Nah, really?  The fridge too? After a mere twelve weeks? I almost fainted. My fridge would have had the health department after me in twelve weeks.

Sixth Step: Take notes. Oh, yeah. I took notes. I made her tell me and then explain things.  The first thing she does is a walk-through of the area needing cleaning. Walk-through?  What for?  The entire house is a wreck!  What’s to see except more of the same? She looked at me like I was an idiot. Remember, that’s a sister. So, I had to ask what the exact purpose of the walk through was for.

Ahmmm…It is to assess exactly what you need to take care of today. The overall chaos doesn’t matter. What matters is how much time you have. The walk-through lets you take a look and determine what you have time to take care of.  As she put it, if you merely start, without the walk-through, aren’t you going to be surprised when you get to something Gawd Awful? Think really foul and hidden under a towel by a very short someone who shall be nameless…and you don’t have time to deal with it properly because you started somewhere else.

Recap: The walk-through is to determine what you’ll be doing and what you’ll be doing it with in the amount of time you have to dedicate to it.

Seventh Step: Decisions, or as they say in the medical field, triage. How to select the worse from the more worse.  She says money first. If your bills are all over the place, get them in one place and do something about them. You can’t concentrate on other items if your mind has a growly over money. Know where you are about your money, no matter how bad the picture.

So, in the midst of the mountains of papers on my desk, I did my bookwork. Had a coughing fit from the dust, but managed to survive. (And darn it! I was a lot more relaxed about the mess afterward.)

Eighth Step: Who knew? So I made an emergency call to her after I’d spend about four hours sorting the huge piles of paper into consistent piles. I noticed that I’d spent four hours and appeared to have gotten nowhere. And four hours is pretty precious. I’d lost them to diligence. I called her to ask when things were going to get better because I’d just spent four hours and seemed to get nowhere! Her calm answer was, “You’ve been sorting, haven’t you?” Silence from me. How did she know?

I whispered, “Yes.”

She said, “Stop that!” And went on to explain that sorting may seem efficient, but doesn’t really get anything done. I’d have been better off to assess with a glance through what was in the piles and determine if I was going to use them in the future. Anything of a permanent nature needs a home.  Make a file.  Then you have someplace for the paper instead of another pile. Any paper that will not be in a file needs to be tossed or acted upon immediately.  Determine how important each piece really is, vital to health? Hearth? Home? New novel? I wanted to hit myself in the head with the phone handset. Four hours I’ll never get back now lost to laundry-sorting thinking.

Two weeks later, by using little bits of time, I can now see most of the top of my desk.  The paper piles on the floor are gone. TWO large black bags of paper have been removed from my office, been shredded, and disposed of.  Several piles are now gone from our eating area. You certainly couldn’t call it a dining area-yet. I have a small heap still there, but it is much smaller.

Ninth Step: The vehicles.  The house blew up.  Well, it seemed like it.  Another emergency call to you know who. Beloved and I had taken a short three day trip and there was everything all over the house. I asked her what happened.  She told me there is an order to after a trip. Don’t sort laundry to do unless you need the clothing immediately. Empty the vehicle immediately. Set the luggage out of the way. Set all boxes and bags out of the way. Deal with ONE bag or box at a time as you have time. If you need the laundry out of the way, then deal with it. The purchases you made are not immediately necessary or an emergency. They can wait their turn.

Tenth Step: Deal with what bugs you most even if it seems trivial. The guru said it was because dealing with things that bug you make you calmer. Calmer is a good place to be. Trivial items add up and soon there will be nothing that bugs you that can’t wait while you go enjoy yourself doing whatever you want to do or need to do.

My sister takes naps. Goes and does professional photography. Has tasty, nutritious food at her house. Works full time. Keeps up a huge yard with a thirty-five foot pond, watches TV, reads books, and has a smile on her face. Her place isn’t perfection, but very close.  She has more time to goof off than anyone I know.

I wanted to share this with all of you, because by following her instructions, which I have given here, (I’m sure there are more, but this is as far as I’ve gotten to date.) I can see all but a quarter of the top of my desk. I have had a pedicure, which previously I was unable to schedule.  I have a cleaner house. I am calmer, much calmer. I have been able to devote some time to this blog, which I missed doing. I am doing some re-work on one of my novels-in-waiting. New ideas are popping.

I’m getting my life back for me.