Hi, my name is Lesli (or Tymber, depending on how you know me), and I…am not the world’s best housekeeper.
*whew!*
No, I’m far from being eligible for my own Hoarders episode, let me clarify that right now. No rotting garbage strewn all over, no “paths” through piles of stuff, none of that. I have clutter, which I’m chipping away at a little at a time. And don’t ask to see my garage. (Seriously, please, don’t.) BUT, it’s chaos with some semblance of order, and contributing to that is the fact that we’re going on two years into a full-house remodel that we’re doing ourselves. We have a small house and too much stuff, and I know that. Horizontal spaces tend to gather stuff, so it’s a constant battle trying to weed through stuff.
My problem is that I get swamped working at home. The last thing I want to do after working all day is to turn around and start cleaning. Add to that my arthritis and sometimes when I have the will or time, I don’t have the energy.
I joke that I’m fairly “Sheldon-esque” (“The Big Bang Theory”) in some ways. A little OCDish. Unfortunately, the must obsessively clean tic isn’t one of them. It’s not that I can’t get organized, it’s that I can’t STAY that way.
Finally, I’m getting better about forming habits. (Only took me nearly 40 years. LOL) For the past couple of months, my sadistic workout buddy (thank You, Bro!) has helped me stay on track with my workout routine. Mr. Eeevvvilllle (aka the elliptical machine) has received a LOT of use. Having someone who doesn’t have a problem busting my balls to keep me motivated to exercise every day has REALLY helped. Haven’t lost a lot of weight, but I am starting to see the positive effects as my legs become more toned.
A few years ago I jumped on the Flylady (http://www.flylady.net) bandwagon and tried to do her system. At first I did great, then as things started happening, life got in the way, my grandmother got sick and died, I just stopped doing it. Never forgot about it, but just stopped doing it.
So I decided this week to try again. One of my problems before was the control journal. Having a written out journal I had to sometimes tote with me wasn’t working for me. As I was entering stuff into my iPad (ha you knew I’d work that in somehow, didn’t you?) calendar, it hit me THIS could be my control journal. I use the Pocket Informant calendar, which syncs to my Google calendar, which syncs to both my BlackBerry and Android phones. So while the tasks don’t sync over, the events do.
Aha!
My iPad is usually on my kitchen counter during the day anyway as a fast way for me to monitor emails without getting bogged down and distracted by my laptop. So I started a task list, and I’ve been adding one or two every day this week. The little Sheldon in my brain lurrrrrvvs seeing tasks checked off every day.
No, there’s not a huge amount of progress yet. But It’s helping me get more organized, and this time, it feels different. It feels more comfortable. No, my house will never be perfect, but I think I can finally get it to a point where I won’t feel like I have to make excuses before someone comes in. I don’t like having people come to my house, even though I know damn well there are LOTS of people with houses far worse than mine, because it’s embarrassing to have stuff piled on our table and on my desks. (And yes, keep in mind my “great room” which is living/dining room combined is also my home office and holds our living room, dining room table, and two desks.)
At least my bedroom has been holding its own since we got new furniture and painted in there early this year. LOL So I know I can stick to it if I try. I just need to finally get it to a point where the fifteen minutes at a time is just maintenance and not trying to whittle stuff down to where I want it. It won’t be an overnight thing, but I’m going to try to stick to it. And this will help me with my writing because I won’t sit there staring at my desk thinking I REALLY should be cleaning the house, or cleaning the house and staring at my laptop and thinking I REALLY should be working. LOL
We, erm, **koff** have a gym membership.
But with the movie-making, photoshoots and novel edits, neither of us have gone in … **koff** a few months.
I’ve begun swimming again… twice a week, where I work.
Thus far, “swimming” means “sitting on the locker room floor and chatting with my friends.” But hey, that’s emotional exercise… isn’t it?