I woke up early this morning and got right online. I am so glad did, as Feisty was on, and she convinced me that not only should I accomplish my pre-set goal for the day, but that it would make fantastic blog fodder.
For those of you who do not write blogs, let me explain the concept of "blog fodder". Everytime something interesting, embarassing, amusing, or just plain weird happens to me, the first thought in my mind is usually, "Oh, this would be wonderful in my blog!" Quite often, the blogs you read from me have been written through the day in my head, waiting patiently for me to sit down long enough at my computer and type it up. In fact, if you want a good example of everyday oddities becoming blog fodder, try this blog. It's one of my new favorites.
So this morning, when I told Feisty that today's goal was to pack the frightening hole in the wall that is my husband's junk closet, her immediate response was, "Blog fodder!" Jere, as many of you know, is a clutterbug and historian. Our home is filled with books and the relics of his travels. I, on the other hand, was raised as a minimalist. Knick knacks are just extra things you have to dust. I am a fan of white walls and clean lines. My husband loves to have everything he owns on display, and I am perfectly content to store the majority of my belongings in boxes out of sight.
Even though Jere wasn't going to be living here, I still needed a three bedroom apartment to fit all of his stuff. And when I moved in, there were so many boxes and so much extra furniture that the people who were hired to unpack couldn't actually do it. In his old place, before we were married, he had a whole bedroom dedicated to storing his things, floor to ceiling. I couldn't have that here. Through organization and compromise, we worked it out. And one result of this compromise? Jere's closet.
My problem today was not really the abundance of stuff. It was the weight of it. Awkward sizes, heavy boxes on the top shelf, all led to bruises, cuts, smashed fingernails, and one very painful squished little toe (the result of an old wireless router falling from the top shelf to my foot on the floor). By the time I was finished, I was sweaty and sore, but I felt the stress melt from my body. Outside of packing the kitchen, this closet was my biggest job. I felt so accomplished looking at the neatly stacked boxes where the mess used to be. One more area completely ready for the movers.
In fact, I felt so satisfied, I packed the office closet as well. Half the closet was my shoes and baking supplies, the other half was Jere's coat collection and old trunks. And now it's done as well. It's fantastic.
I can't wait to get to Florida, where there's not only plenty of room for my husband to enjoy all of his things, but there's also plenty of room for me as well.
Today's lesson: It's so much better to tackle a task you're dreading than to let it hang over your head. Unless that thing that's hanging over your head suddenly falls on your foot.
For those of you who do not write blogs, let me explain the concept of "blog fodder". Everytime something interesting, embarassing, amusing, or just plain weird happens to me, the first thought in my mind is usually, "Oh, this would be wonderful in my blog!" Quite often, the blogs you read from me have been written through the day in my head, waiting patiently for me to sit down long enough at my computer and type it up. In fact, if you want a good example of everyday oddities becoming blog fodder, try this blog. It's one of my new favorites.
So this morning, when I told Feisty that today's goal was to pack the frightening hole in the wall that is my husband's junk closet, her immediate response was, "Blog fodder!" Jere, as many of you know, is a clutterbug and historian. Our home is filled with books and the relics of his travels. I, on the other hand, was raised as a minimalist. Knick knacks are just extra things you have to dust. I am a fan of white walls and clean lines. My husband loves to have everything he owns on display, and I am perfectly content to store the majority of my belongings in boxes out of sight.
Even though Jere wasn't going to be living here, I still needed a three bedroom apartment to fit all of his stuff. And when I moved in, there were so many boxes and so much extra furniture that the people who were hired to unpack couldn't actually do it. In his old place, before we were married, he had a whole bedroom dedicated to storing his things, floor to ceiling. I couldn't have that here. Through organization and compromise, we worked it out. And one result of this compromise? Jere's closet.
My problem today was not really the abundance of stuff. It was the weight of it. Awkward sizes, heavy boxes on the top shelf, all led to bruises, cuts, smashed fingernails, and one very painful squished little toe (the result of an old wireless router falling from the top shelf to my foot on the floor). By the time I was finished, I was sweaty and sore, but I felt the stress melt from my body. Outside of packing the kitchen, this closet was my biggest job. I felt so accomplished looking at the neatly stacked boxes where the mess used to be. One more area completely ready for the movers.
In fact, I felt so satisfied, I packed the office closet as well. Half the closet was my shoes and baking supplies, the other half was Jere's coat collection and old trunks. And now it's done as well. It's fantastic.
I can't wait to get to Florida, where there's not only plenty of room for my husband to enjoy all of his things, but there's also plenty of room for me as well.
Today's lesson: It's so much better to tackle a task you're dreading than to let it hang over your head. Unless that thing that's hanging over your head suddenly falls on your foot.
1 comment:
OW. Hope your bruises and cuts and smashed parts heal soon. Glad I could cheer you on. Meanwhile I made another dent in our tax preparations. I love when the oldest sleeps late and I can get stuff done in the mornings.
BTW, can we see an "after" picture?
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