Scattered (Lynn Kerstan)
Lately, I just can’t seem to finish anything. Or maybe it’s that I can’t keep from starting too many things at the same time.
Probably because I’ve put off a score of tasks for so long that procrastination is no longer an option. Now just about everything in my life is a work-in-progress. Using the term "progress" very loosely here.
On this rainy day, I had resolved to strike at least half a dozen tedious jobs from my list. There wasn’t a single one of them I wanted to do. Now it’s nearing midnight. Here in my small living room/office, I’m sitting in a comfortable chair with my laptop, feeling like an island in a sea of chaos.
All around me are projects half done, or barely begun, or in a mess because I don’t know how to deal with them. To my left is a small suitcase that needs (since mid-March) to be put away, but I put something else where it usually goes and can’t find another place for it.
Beside it is my large cat carrier. As of this morning, happily, Lymond seems to be doing a little better. But that’s what I thought yesterday morning, for about twenty minutes. Then he got worse than ever. What if I need to rush him to the vet's? After a whole day of improvement, I’m starting to feel hopeful. Not enough to put away the carrier, though. While I’m not the least bit superstitious, that seems like tempting Fate or poking a stick at Fortune.
Nestled against the carrier is an Ikea planter stand that, in winter, holds my small space heater. With spring allegedly here, I’ve twice got out the ladder and stashed the heater in an overhead closet, only to have the temperature plummet all the way to the mid-fifties. Okay, I have thin So-Cal blood. Your point would be . . . ? The heater stays out until I need the fan.
Nearby is the ironing board. I meant to dredge out my stored spring clothes and press one or two things to wear on sunny days. The dredged clothes are currently stacked on the window seat. A half-ironed cotton jacket is spread out on the ironing board. Near it is the iron, almost invisible because of the pile of stuff related to another project I started when ironing became insupportable. That would be halfway through ironing the jacket.
In the corner is a laundry basket, overflowing with sheets, towels, underwear, and socks. The apartment complex laundry room is thirty yards away. It’s been raining. There are puddles.
The small tables and shelves surrounding my workspace are, well, invisible. Atop them are mountains of unread magazines to be sorted through and recycled. Foothills of not-quite-junkmail that wasn’t urgent but should be dealt with. Books and research materials I used for the online writing class I just finishing teaching.
I got the vacuum cleaner out as well. This is the first day in a long time that I thought it would not be terrorizing a very sick cat. It’s still sitting there, unused. Maybe tomorrow, if he doesn’t have a relapse. Cat is snoozing on my bed at the moment. No comfortable cat-spots in this room, what with everything buried under something or other. At least he can jump onto the bed, which he hasn’t been able to do for the last several weeks.
I’m sure all of you are better organized, neater, more persistent, and less scatterbrained than I am. But if you have any bad habits or lapses to report, I’d be glad to hear about them. Or maybe you can inspire me to finish something. What should I start with?
Patricia Potter
Tara Taylor Quinn
Maggie Shayne
Anne Stuart
Suzanne Forster
Lynn Kerstan
5 Comments :
Lynn,
Sounds like my apartment - full wash basket and all. Cat hair comes rolling out to meet me sometimes -like a fourth cat.
Remember the beginning of Romancing the Stone? Joan Wilder has just finished her book and is brought to tears but cannot find anything (not even toilet paper) to blow her nose. That's me - when I'm in the zone - and the zone sometimes isn't only writing - it can be with almost anything that has my brain occupied - there's nothing else that matters.
Right now I'm delving into Glastonbury, Arthur and the Goddess for a class I'll be teaching in the fall - and then there's the Battle of Gettysburg and reenacting that's in the second book of my mystery series - and of course the stack of books waiting to be read.
Wash? What wash?
Lynn, you're normal - just like me.
When I need to do something, I usually start with a small corner or one specific thing. Last night (with my full suitcase yet to be unpacked from my trip to Seattle)I cleaned out some clothes in my closet. I guess it was just what my brain was focusing on at the time - so I went with it.
Oh, crap!
Gotta get the car inspected - will take a book with me.
A friend of mine teases me about what he calls my "decorative shoes". I'm always leaving pumps strewn all over the floor. It's my worst habit.
Hope your cat keeps feeling better.
Mary
I have tips! I have tips! I have useful, helpful advice! Gosh this is so rare, I'm excited!
I get this way all the time, Lynn. Here's what I do.
1. Make a list. Write out all the things you want to do and put them on the list.
2. Pick one thing from the list, and do it and nothing else. Just that one thing. Cross it off. If you feel like it, later, you can do another one. On tough days, pick an easy one. When you're feeling ambitious pick a harder one. Or you can pick the one that is the most urgent first.
3. Put the suitcase under the bed.
Now, about the cat carrier. I have an opposite approach than you on that. Thinking positively helps positive things happen. It's not tempting fate, it's creating fate. Expect the cat to be better and to stay better, and put the cat carrier away. Or expect the cat to be better and stay better, and keep telling yourself that for three days and if he's still fine, THEN put it away, if that method works better for you.
One or two things a day off that list. That's all. But make yourself finish one task at a time. Sometimes, I reward myself with something fun if I get the task done. That works well. If I get this done, I get to go to the store and buy myself a peanut butter cup. It's great motivation.
Trust me. I'm writing a book, planning a wedding and raking the lawn. And trying to exercise and my bills need to be paid and checkbook balanced. But every day one or two things get done.
And there's no real rush. We're eternal. =) It's not like the world will end if we don't empty the list. And besides, we'll never empty the list. New items will keep being added to the bottom. So just relax. One or two a day, a sweet reward, and something fun. B-r-e-a-t-h-e.
Hugs!
Maggie
Lynn,
I'm with you on this one! Wash? Which laundry basket this week? How many clothes do I ACTUALLY need? Vacuuming? My vacuum cleaner bag has been full for....uh I don't know how many months. And things like coffee tables, my writing desk and bedroom night stand are buried under paper, magazines, gifts that should have been sent months ago........
Yup. Sounds familiar.
robyn in Iowa
You are all so comforting! I love the company of people who would rather delve into Glastonbury (been there!) and the Goddess than get organized. And while my "public appearance" pumps and fancy shoes are stored away until the next speech or conference or booksigning, assorted walking shoes and sandals are scattered about.
Robyn, when I finally faced the need to change a vacuum cleaner bag and figured out how to do it, I felt like a rocket scientist. And today, I vacuumed! No progress on the piles of books, magazines, and mail, though.
Maggie, my sweet, I do make lists! Which I swiftly and efficiently lose under piles and scatters of stuff. But you are purely the model of what I long to become. It's no wonder you are a woman of many accomplishments, and you manage that with many more demands on your time and talents than I have. I love having you as a friend.
And now the good news. I have put away the cat carrier! Maggie is surely right that I should have done so earlier, as a vote of confidence and a message to the universe. Alas, I am a fatalist. And if nothing else, being a fatalist cuts down on the stress.
But Lymond is doing really well now, for three days in a row. He's just about back to normal, with no indication of what made him practically unable to walk on his hind legs for nearly three weeks.
So all is tentatively well, cat-wise, except that now he expects regular feedings of the really expensive Fancy Feast Premium food.
Hmmn. You don't suppose he was gaming me. Playing the Pity card to get me to buy the . . . nah. Surely he's not that smart.
Oh. No room under the bed--hospital style with machine to raise and lower it--but I found a spot to stash the suitcase. Ironing board is put away. Don't ask about the half-ironed cotton jacket. Space heater, I discovered last night when it was cold, no longer works. And while the overflowing laundry basket is still staring me in the face, I intend to walk to the bank tomorrow, buy a roll of quarters, and do a marathon wash/dry/fold/putaway.
Progress. What a concept!
I can hardly wait. Sigh.
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