Well. Strangely, my father keeps telling me I should write more in my blog. Is that weird or what? Guess now that I know he reads it, I should only say nice things about him :-)
So I've taken a little break from being bitter to pursue the great organizational quest of 2007. In other words, my sis came to visit me. I really should post before and after pics, but was too frightened to enter parts of my house much less take pictures. Let me sum it up like this:
- I have a kitchen table?!? Who knew?
- Mold does indeed grow on old school papers.
- Used Kleenex does not self destruct if it misses the trash can.
- If left to lurk too long under the bed or in dusty corners, dog hair becomes reanimated and puts up quite a fight if you try to sweep it up.
- No, I really do not need another book, but I really want one, even if it won't fit on my bookcase.
- Never, ever, under any circumstances stop to think about the amount of money you spent on trinkets, memorabilia, or junk over the past 15 years. That way leads to madness and sweaty palms. (a free t-shirt for anyone who can tell me where the previous line (possibly slightly paraphrased but I'm too lazy to look it up) comes from).
- Your high school yearbook is nothing like you remember it.
It's been an adventure. Everyone should be lucky enough to have a sister that will help them start anew. We took three carloads of stuff to the Salvation Army, gave away some things on the side of the road, and recycled at least that much paper. And now I have a nice house to come home to, with no fear of being buried under a pile of stuff that falls on me in my sleep and suffocates me.
The strangest thing is how hard it was to let go of some of these items, particularly some of the baby items, like a sleep monitor we used when the munchkin was in the sids range. It was the only way I slept during those first 9 months, and it nnearly brought me to tears to give it away.
In some ways, I feel like a complete failure. All the junk I've wasted money on, all the things I no longer have a need for, all the stuff I've never used. Giving all that away is like admitting my old life was a failure, that I spent all that effort to acquire things to end up trashing them. I have such an innate drive to collect that getting rid of things is almost physically painful.
Then there's the whole "failed" marriage thing. It's hard to look back on 13 years of my life (almost a third of my life, for those of you who are desperately trying to do the math) and jettison many of the symbols of that life. It's hard not to think that, even if I may be headed in a better direction, even if I might be happier in the long run, my marriage, something I spent a hell of a lot of time working on, thinking about, even planning for (don't get me started on how society programs little girls--and boys to an extent--to spend life searching for their happily ever after) is over. It's hard to give it up, to let go of the habit of thinking in terms of "we." Of course, I still think "we" in terms of my daughter, who makes all of this worth it (when she's not in the midst of a temper tantrum or whine fest). And my life is still not entirely my own because I need to make sure she's in a good place (writing for tv in 12 hour shifts is probably not an option logistically.)
So basically, I spent a month purging and rebuilding. Exercising and eating right. Living on a schedule and learning how to discipline myself and my child. And yes, on occasion, huddling in my bed wishing everything wasn't so damn hard.
All I can say is, I owe my sister. A lot. What exactly I owe her I'm not sure . . .
Off to cook dinner as part of my new life as organized supermom.
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