Divide and conquer and take two of these and call me in the morning.

Somewhere along life’s path, I stopped doing my dishes. I’d never liked washing them anyway and at some point I just – didn’t. This would’ve been fine if they’d all been clean at the time but they were all dirty. All of them. I don’t want to say how long this went on. I’d wash what I needed at that moment and avoid looking at the rest. I’m sure it looked disgusting but I was too tired to worry about it. Every time I thought it was time to do the dishes, I’d look at that counter full of plates and bowls and utensils and pots and pans and jars and Gladware and I would get tired to my bones. I would feel heavy and dull and go lie down. Sometimes I’d get as far as rinsing out the worst offenders or even wash a sink’s worth of dishes but it was like moving a mountain with a toothpick. And so this went on…
Until last week. Last week I spread that counter of dishes and pans all across the kitchen: all the utensils together, all the glasses in one place. I stacked all the plates up and did the same with the bowls. (All the Gladware had long ago been banished to a huge plastic bin with a lid. I’m debating just throwing it all out.) Everything was sorted into its group and each group was set apart from its neighbor. Then I told myself that all I had to do was wash one group. Just one. Any one. But I had to start.

All the plates are done. I’m halfway through the glasses. I’ve been cleaning up whatever I’m using so I’m not just baling the water behind me and back into the boat, as it were. I still have a way to go but I’m confident I will get all those dishes washed.

What allowed me to do this? Drugs. Plain and simple. There’s nothing else to explain it. I’ve been organizing those dishes for a long time. I’ve been meaning to wash them for just as long. The only difference between last week and all the weeks before it is that the medication is finally doing what it’s supposed to on every level. I not only have the desire to wash the dishes, I have the energy, too.

And it’s not just the dishes. This week-end I ran errands and sorted (and pitched) much stuff and even managed to cook for myself a little. As with most errands, I’d forget something. But this time, instead of letting it go, I went back and got the item or made the necessary trip. This may seem mundane to you but for me it was a tad liberating: I had the energy to get done what I wanted to.

So here’s to drugs! Here’s to the medications that let me do what I want to do when I want to do it. Here’s to the liberating pharmaceuticals! May I always have access to them.

About a month, it looks like.

How long can I leave dried up bits of soap in the soap dish before I realize that they're not going to become part of the new bar and throw them out?

Patience was never one of my virtues.

I'm already tired of this project.

This is why I have too much stuff. One look at that and I have instant envy. Do I have a purpose for it? No. Can I imagine a purpose for it? Sure! Will I definitely make and use something with it? Who knows? I haven't ordered one and already it's shoved in a corner gathering dust.

I'm bewildered and a little ashamed.

How much do I need?

First Bag & Bin

This is not my own idea. I culled it from one of the many books or websites on managing clutter. The process is this: You take a basket/bin/whatever and a garbage bag and, starting at one end of the house, you collect all the garbage in each room and anything in that room that does not belong there. As you go from room to room, you drop things off where they belong and collect those things which are misplaced. In theory, when you have completed the circuit, everything should be where it belongs and all garbage disposed of.

I would like to say this has solved everything. However, most of my apartment is so disordered that I was only able to do one room before the (large) bin was full. I think the important thing to remember when next I see that bin is that I am free to throw out anything in there. I do not have to find a place for each and every thing in that bin. Or rather, the place for some of those things is the garbage.

Someday I want to be able to bag & bin the whole apartment in an hour. Probably the easiest way to get to that point is to throw out a great deal more.

Why do I have so much stuff?

Yes, I have not been keeping up.

I'm sorry for the delay in posts but you know how it is when you have a new guy in your life -- they pretty much take over. He's such a sweetie, though, I can't fault him for it. He's handsome, strong and playful. And he has a beautiful speaking voice. As much as I adore him, though, I'm starting to think he needs someone who can do more for him: give him his space, spend a lot more time adoring and be better about cleaning his litter box.

Anyone want a cat?