Pleasure Notes

Thought I’d take you on a little journey through my brain because, really, haven’t you secretly always wanted to go there? (Humor me by saying YES!) Here’s what’s taking up space at the moment…

• Is this cough tickling my lungs just my imagination, a chest cold, or pneumonia?
• How many dolphins will die as a result of the BP oil spill? Will the rest of the marine population hate us forever and plot a suitable revenge?
• Why does this country still pretend the aggressor is the victim in the Gaza flotilla tragedy and greater Israeli-Palestinian issue, and refuse to call a spade a spade?
• Will I ever get back in shape?
• When will I move past my frustrations with my mother?
• If I never sweep the floor, will the dust bunnies continue to multiply or reach an equilibrium, like goldfish in a tank?
• Will I ever enjoy a work of fiction as much as I enjoyed The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society?
• Do I believe my financial situation can radically change?
• Will I regret it if I delete my Facebook account? What if I delete my LinkedIn account?
• Why won’t people stop telling me about great blogs I’ve missed?
• Why aren’t the FedEx and UPS guys who service my area ever cute?
• Should I rent The Cove tonight, for a good cry of frustration, horror and impotence?
• What should the next piece of jewelry I design for Noted Design look like?
• Why does my cat eat my hair while I sleep?
• Now that I know more about the connection between counterfeit products and human trafficking, thanks to Deluxe, will I stick to my principles and forego the next beautiful Chloe purse knock-off?
• Why does laundry never fucking end?
• Why am I letting my cough/chest cold/pneumonia keep me from grabbing coffee with a friend and heading to a BBQ?
• Why don’t more people refuse to go to war?

It’s a wonder I ever sleep, isn’t it? I think it all justifies my love of romantic comedies, however. Anything to shut off my brain…

Hope you didn’t stub your toe on anything, or get lost in the mayhem.

What would a tour through your head currently look like?

For the past few months, I’ve been back in an office job, the kind that comes with cubicles, florescent lighting and gossiping co-workers. Yes, it has been a fairly soul crushing experience.

If only money grew on trees.

Or came more frequently and fluidly from the activities I do which feed my soul.*

It’s the gossip that bothers me the most. The tense whispers. The snickers. The HOURS of inane conversation about this or that person. It isn’t all negative, per se. But it is just SO MUCH CLUTTER.

I already have PLENTY of clutter, folks!

Debating for 45 minutes the size of a belt buckle some dude wore on a reality show does NOT improve my life.

Pointing out the flaws of those with whom we sat in a meeting does NOT improve my life.

Clearly, it entertains many people. Perhaps, I am simply too self-centered to understand its merits. All I know is, it exhausts me to overhear it, it bores me to engage in it, and it has the stickiness of oil on a feather.

Now, if someone wants to talk about the tragedy of oil on feathers, I will gladly engage. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be a topic of interest for the office gossip girls.

What’s your take on a little gossip?

***

*Never fear. I am, indeed, working on this being more than an “if only,” with the help of Chris and Danielle and all of you. But it’s all happening at an annoyingly GLACIAL pace!

After hitting a wall yesterday with my tolerance for external clutter in my life and interior fog in my brain, I spent some time trying to claim some order. It was my hope that by organizing the visible areas in my home that were being overrun by chaos, I would clear my mind. I was not entirely successful in stopping the mental spin, but I do feel better about finding (and addressing) all the unopened mail on my desk and finally doing the dishes to save myself the need to hit up IKEA for a clean fork.

today's view of my CLEAN kitchen

I’m inching my way toward a huge, life-altering decision within the next month or so. I know I can’t possible have any clarity about which direction to take if I disappear under a pile of junk and disarray.

today's view of my CLEAN desk

In decluttering my home, I’m reminded of how powerfully, and successfully, procrastination and fear incapacity me.

Why is inaction so much easier than action? And why is HAVING good intentions so much more common than ACTING on good intentions?

I can’t seem to shake a pervading and powerful desire to be saved by some fairy godmother or knight in shining armour – saved from my head, my dishes, my clutter, my questions, my fear.

I think I’ll just blame everything on Walt Disney. That’ll fix it. Yep.

Or I could keep cleaning, take some baby steps, complete one action, wake up, and breathe… really, deeply, truly breathe.

What do you do for clarity?

If anyone ever wants to get a snapshot of my state of mind, all they have to do is look at my desk or in my kitchen sink. I’m going to reveal the utterly embarrassing condition of things at the moment:

today's view of my desk

Take a wild guess at the state of my brain…

today's view of my kitchen sink

Terrifying, isn’t it?

Tune in tomorrow to see whether my attempt at decluttering both brain and home within the next 24 hours is a success or not. Wish me luck!