I am one of those annoyingly organized people who not only Spring cleans, but also Summer cleans, Fall cleans, and Winter cleans. My holiday decorations are stored in plastic totes with a color scheme matching the holiday (pastel pinks and purple hold Easter, red and green hold Christmas, etc. etc.). No one gets more excited than me when I get a postcard in the mail asking for donations to be put out--hello, an excuse to purge my house! Woohoo! *happy dance*. Those of you who have been camping with me no the happy dance in all it's glory (and sometimes after several beers...).
One of these postcards came last week and I put it on the fridge, so I'd remember the day. Yes, I sickingly had things already purged in anticipation of the next postcard. But then I got to thinking...
How is it that every time one of these postcards come, I have things to donate? How did I accumulate so many items that I don't need or use? Of course, clothes fade, children outgrow them along with shoes, parts become missing for toys, or just lose the interest of the child. But what about the rest? Do we really need 33 coffee mugs when we only use the same 5 over and over? How do I have body lotions from Bath and Body works that are not even made anymore? Where the heck did all these tupperware and rubbermaid containers come from? Well, some may actually be my mom's and just never made it back over there....enough with the excuses!
I recycle, my garage and shed are filled with empty yankee candle and pickle jars that now hold screws, nuts, bolts, and other items, I re-use foil and sandwich bags for heaven's sake! But yet, I have 33 coffee mugs. My husband doesn't even say anything anymore when Winter comes and blankets mysteriously disappear from our house. He knows I have given them to some man sleeping on a downtown bench, or the guy who sleeps in his car in the metroparks. But yet, I still have a closet full of nothing but blankets? Let's not talk about my shoes...
Maybe it's time to simplify. Does anyone need coffee mugs?
Monday, March 28, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
White Flag of Surrender
In my head, I had all these ideas as to where my life would be at this point in time (damn type A, planner, list maker in me). Life has thrown more curve balls at me in the last 2 years than Koufax threw in his career. I was never a very good hitter, my timing is normally off. It appears my timing is now off in life too.
When I went back to work after being home a year, it wasn't the ideal location or the ideal pay, but I was happy to be working again. The job duties/responsibilities were ideal for the career path I wanted. Perhaps, my husband didn't need to pick up so many shifts and we could take our son to Kalahari (he's been asking to go for 2 years). Of course, I promptly came up with a new financial plan to include my salary once again and started daydreaming about finally finishing some of the cosmetic changes I've been waiting to do in the house.
When I was once again laid off (my first full time paycheck was my severance check), I was hopeful that I wouldn't be home another year again, the market had really changed, I had earned a new certification. My first week home, I fielded at least 3 calls a day regarding my resume. Of course, some where headhunters without actual jobs, but you can never have too many people helping you in your job search. I was very positive. (OK so I missed the little rugrats too).
Sometimes it's hard to be positive. I've only been home 3 weeks, but I feel like it's been at least 3 months. My car needs some pricey repairs, the mail man still brings me bills, and I still need to pay them, the phone calls regarding my resume have died down. I am still looking at ugly wallpaper in two rooms. Unemployment will be a very, very small amount per week (my monthly payout won't even cover my son's school tuition), and I have yet to actually receive any of it.
I can deal with all kinds of stress: car accidents, broken arms, bloody noses, my mother, my dog thinking squirrels are trying to take over our yard, but I am not good with financial stress. I do not like it when things are not at a zero balance. You hear people who grew up in the Great Depression talk about what they still do to this day because of their experience. I paid off major debt once in my life, it was a life learning experience of frugal living and smart choices. I vowed to never have that issue again. To be faced with the possibility of doing that again, when the cause was out of my hands, makes me wonder if drinking at 9am is acceptable.
People always say: work hard-- it will pay off; if you want something go after it; all things happen for a reason. What people never say is that sometimes it doesn't matter how hard you work -- shit happens; that going after something doesn't always mean you will get it; and that often reasons and off timing don't turn out alright in the end for a long time.
I am no longer sure how much positive thinking I have left in me. I wonder if I can return my MBA, I don't seem to be using it and it wasn't cheap.
When I went back to work after being home a year, it wasn't the ideal location or the ideal pay, but I was happy to be working again. The job duties/responsibilities were ideal for the career path I wanted. Perhaps, my husband didn't need to pick up so many shifts and we could take our son to Kalahari (he's been asking to go for 2 years). Of course, I promptly came up with a new financial plan to include my salary once again and started daydreaming about finally finishing some of the cosmetic changes I've been waiting to do in the house.
When I was once again laid off (my first full time paycheck was my severance check), I was hopeful that I wouldn't be home another year again, the market had really changed, I had earned a new certification. My first week home, I fielded at least 3 calls a day regarding my resume. Of course, some where headhunters without actual jobs, but you can never have too many people helping you in your job search. I was very positive. (OK so I missed the little rugrats too).
Sometimes it's hard to be positive. I've only been home 3 weeks, but I feel like it's been at least 3 months. My car needs some pricey repairs, the mail man still brings me bills, and I still need to pay them, the phone calls regarding my resume have died down. I am still looking at ugly wallpaper in two rooms. Unemployment will be a very, very small amount per week (my monthly payout won't even cover my son's school tuition), and I have yet to actually receive any of it.
I can deal with all kinds of stress: car accidents, broken arms, bloody noses, my mother, my dog thinking squirrels are trying to take over our yard, but I am not good with financial stress. I do not like it when things are not at a zero balance. You hear people who grew up in the Great Depression talk about what they still do to this day because of their experience. I paid off major debt once in my life, it was a life learning experience of frugal living and smart choices. I vowed to never have that issue again. To be faced with the possibility of doing that again, when the cause was out of my hands, makes me wonder if drinking at 9am is acceptable.
People always say: work hard-- it will pay off; if you want something go after it; all things happen for a reason. What people never say is that sometimes it doesn't matter how hard you work -- shit happens; that going after something doesn't always mean you will get it; and that often reasons and off timing don't turn out alright in the end for a long time.
I am no longer sure how much positive thinking I have left in me. I wonder if I can return my MBA, I don't seem to be using it and it wasn't cheap.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Don't Forget to Live
I never gave my parents any real trouble until I was in my 20s. Then I really made up for being such a perfect child. I am sure my parents had daily heart attacks for at least 3 years as I had an early midlife crisis (hey, I always do everything ahead of schedule).
For the first time in my life, I was lost. I was almost done with a degree in an area I no longer wanted to follow. I found my classes boring, the assignments were not challenging, my brain was not being exercised. I stopped attending classes. I existed, but I wasn't living. I pushed friends away, I slept all the time. I became a shell of the person I really was. I had never had such confusion before, I had always had a plan, a schedule, an idea. Now I knew nothing.
As the saying goes, you have to hit rock bottom before you can climb to the top. I hit rock bottom, in a non Charlie Sheen way. Perhaps, the Charlie way would have been more fun, but I have never seen the point in substance abuse, needles are not my favorite thing, and I like my skin and nose exactly as they are (I have a little bump in my nose, my mom has it too. It's really not even that noticeable. A lady once argued with me that I must have broken it once. No, sorry to disappoint you, nose guru).
The climb back up, took a little longer than the fall, due to a slight diversion called a horrible break up that left me shell shocked. However, the diversion ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me. I learned that year who I was again, who I wanted to be, how strong I was, who my real friends were. Just like Jay Z, I was back, but I was back stronger and more full of life than I ever had been.
I learned not to stress over the things you can't control, I learned to deal with issues one step at a time, I learned I can't control everything, I learned I didn't want to, I learned not knowing the answer is ok.
I learned that sometimes you can be so busy planning life, that you forget to live life.
I resolve to stop planning all my tomorrows and just enjoy my todays. Tomorrow will always be there, tomorrow.
For the first time in my life, I was lost. I was almost done with a degree in an area I no longer wanted to follow. I found my classes boring, the assignments were not challenging, my brain was not being exercised. I stopped attending classes. I existed, but I wasn't living. I pushed friends away, I slept all the time. I became a shell of the person I really was. I had never had such confusion before, I had always had a plan, a schedule, an idea. Now I knew nothing.
As the saying goes, you have to hit rock bottom before you can climb to the top. I hit rock bottom, in a non Charlie Sheen way. Perhaps, the Charlie way would have been more fun, but I have never seen the point in substance abuse, needles are not my favorite thing, and I like my skin and nose exactly as they are (I have a little bump in my nose, my mom has it too. It's really not even that noticeable. A lady once argued with me that I must have broken it once. No, sorry to disappoint you, nose guru).
The climb back up, took a little longer than the fall, due to a slight diversion called a horrible break up that left me shell shocked. However, the diversion ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me. I learned that year who I was again, who I wanted to be, how strong I was, who my real friends were. Just like Jay Z, I was back, but I was back stronger and more full of life than I ever had been.
I learned not to stress over the things you can't control, I learned to deal with issues one step at a time, I learned I can't control everything, I learned I didn't want to, I learned not knowing the answer is ok.
I learned that sometimes you can be so busy planning life, that you forget to live life.
I resolve to stop planning all my tomorrows and just enjoy my todays. Tomorrow will always be there, tomorrow.
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