I don’t know how to change. I recognize the need to change well, but I don’t know how to institute permanent change. I need organization. Do I just buy storage bins and hope the problem corrects itself? I need to take better care of myself physically. I don’t make it to yoga class consistently or eat as well as I should. I need to be better with money. Yeah, some things are too far gone to change.
I feel stuck, stuck inside the desire to change and the inability to make it happen. I don’t want to be the woe is me, nothing is working out girl, but that’s genuinely where I am right now. There are books; I know there are books. I’ve read books on everything from organization to cleaning to smart financial choices. I’ve also read books on gardening. I have no garden. Reading a book about organization, even with its steps to take to create a workable solution and system means nothing. It’s almost as if I need a certified organizer to help me (though I could never hire this person because although I like to watch these types of shows on TV, I would feel so judged for the…the need? Is that it? I guess that’s it. I shouldn’t need someone else to show me how to organize, how to clean, how to handle money, how not to drink the last of the vodka while promising myself I won’t drink it, then drinking it because why leave that little bit? That’s just rude).
My dining room table, which doubles, wait, triples and more, as the mail depot, library book drop-off, random paper holder, crumb collector, magazine hoarder repository needs serious help. I instituted a system (I do attempt!) for what to do with the mail when it comes and piles up (I know; keep it from piling up. I haven’t figured out how to do that, aren’t you listening?). That system lasted two weeks. I am proud. It’s embarrassing to even admit these things because isn’t this what other “normal” adults are doing? Running households, folding and putting away clothes, showing up to work on time (or at all), keeping important papers in order instead of accidentally finding last year’s tax returns in a bag of to-be-shredded junk mail?
I have to say when things get unbearable, I do get disgusted enough to try to change them. Maybe what I need to change is my threshold for paper, dishes, and laundry piling up. I have to figure something out quickly. Otherwise, these girls are destined to be dirty dish having, mail/books/magazine pile stepping over, no clean drawers having, random Post-It to do list hoarders.
Hm. This is pretty Debbie Downer after all. I should have stuck to the “change” story about not having enough money for the bus.