Clutter

My mind is full of clutter this morning. Most of it is related to tax reporting and filing. I have seven personal income taxes to file; two GST returns and one business. I am consumed with ensuring I do not find myself in this spot at this time next year.

One year ago, I was consumed with all of the above. And more. Three more businesses and three more personal taxes. I am beyond relieved I am not where I used to be. 

A year ago, after all deadlines were met with the government filings, I had one more end goal. To wind up all the financials of everything related to my bookkeeping job and hand it all over. And I did.

I am feeling a little PTSD as I wade through the tax season. Post traumatic stress. Yes, that says it all. 

The next few days, I will be taking a step back into the world I left behind. It is my hope to tend to all the business the first day. The positive thing about my old life is the people I worked for. I want to let the business go so I can simply enjoy the people part of the equation.

I have bemoaned the fact I don't love having to leave my home to earn my living. What I have not focused on, is the ability to separate home from work. I walk out the door at the end of my work day, come home and leave it all behind. 

Work has invaded home again. My little oasis on the prairie is under attack. I'm fighting back to regain what I worked so hard to achieve last year. A home that feels like a home. Not a work space.

The enemy has been identified. The mission is to conquer and remove it from my head and house. Clearing the clutter begins at home.

Let the spring cleaning begin!

One Tab at a Time

I was making a cup of coffee to bring with me into my cozy little writing spot, wondering what to write about this morning. I had scribbled the words "Multitasking - like a two year old when I ran my daycare". As I thought that thought, instead of pouring milk into my coffee cup, I poured it into the small glass where I keep my daily vitamins (so I had my vitamins with/in milk this morning and several hours ahead of schedule). Apparently, I can't even think and make a cup of coffee at the same time these days. 

Talking? My brain to mouth connection is going. I'm thinking one thing and saying another. I catch myself at times "Did I just say 'chicken'? I meant to say 'kitchen'." Other times someone else catches me, "You put the sheets in the oven? [washer]" As often as I catch myself, I wonder how many times I don't.

Housecleaning? I prefer to focus on one task at a time but when expecting company, suddenly there are at least sixteen things I want to get done. I flit from one task to the next, leaving a trail like a young child does when they lose interest in a toy. I would smile to myself when I found one toy dropped when a new one was picked up, find the new toy and the same chain reaction. I find the vacuum cleaner, lights left on, rags and cleaning accessories in much the same manner as the two year old who dropped a toy when they found something more interesting. 

Work? My office zone is like nothing I have worked in before. I'm a stickler for organization. A place for everything and everything in its place. If I could stick to one task when I work, I would get so much done. But the phone rings, an incoming text or email or someone dropping off something. All work-related, each requiring my attention. I drop what I'm working on and pick up the new toy piece of paper, work on that distraction and often get distracted again (and again) before I'm back on task. 

I also have a little problem with multi-tabbing while puttering away on my own time. I open one tab on the computer to listen to a podcast; open a second tab to work on word/number puzzles; get stuck on a puzzle so open a third tab to start a new puzzle and go to the one I'm stuck on later; need a clue to figure out an answer to a puzzle and open a fourth tab; then decide to check on my bank and credit card balances; then remember I had some emails to follow up on .... 

Aaack!! At what point does a person wonder if they have a medical condition? Spitting out the wrong words is worrisome. Catching myself in the act is a relief. Finding cleaning tools strewn about the house is exasperating but I do remember how I got pulled off task and eventually it all gets done. I'm getting my work done and meeting deadlines but I almost forgot a deadline this month and we are at the half way mark. Multi-tabbing is something I consciously deal with. I take a deep breath and consciously close the excess tabs. "One tab at a time, girl. One tab at a time."

I used to feel like a multitasker extraordinaire. I prided myself on starting six different tasks, knowing each of those tasks would be done. Now? When I find the vacuum cleaner in the middle of the hall after a day or two? I put it away. I close the tab on that. 

One task at a time. One tab at a time. If only life didn't come with so many distractions ...

Paper

I hit a wall this weekend. My cull, sort and destroy project was temporarily side tracked as I took time off to enjoy a Grey's Anatomy Marathon Weekend.

I was halfway into my second day of losing myself to television drama when I told myself I had to do at least ONE thing. So I did.

What started out as digging out the second cool file folder storage box resulted in vacuuming the basement and deciding what documents I could shred.

The end result was this:

Two empty (plus a third one full of documents to shred) file folder sized boxes

and numerous emptied document organizers/folders ...

... plus one gigantic box of shredding (and more where that came from).

I have a paper shredder which is perfect for my personal needs but if I overwork it, I'll be in need of a new shredder. So I may be shredding documents for the duration of the year. 

I have not yet hit the bottom of this bottomless pit of paper collection. I have dabbled in photographs, memorabilia, cards and all kinds of paraphernalia. And I am no where near complete. 

This is the state of our living room at the moment:

One would think this would get easier as I go along. But I keep finding excuses to hold on to some of what I have.

I wondered how much I earned at my very first job. I knew Dad would have deducted it off what he could claim for me as a dependent that year, so I went to Dad's tax papers and found my answer. I earned $1875 my first year of employment back in 1977. I know I could find many more answers I may wonder over the years in Mom's calendars.

Do I really need to know I can get my hands on this information? There is comfort in knowing I have a piece of history only Mom and Dad would have the answers for. This feels like a warm hug on a cold day.

I suspect as I work my way through the excess, I may become less attached to the paper. I spent one entire weekend shredding Mom's papers after she died. I did it once. I can do it again.

I cannot believe it has come to this. This mountain of paper, photographs and memories is overwhelming. 

One step at a time, one weekend at a time for as long as it takes to rid our living room of Rubbermaid storage containers. Where there is a will, there is a way. The "way" may include hiring a company to do my personal shredding. 

I'm a collector of family history, stories and memories. This is so very hard because there is a small piece of history hidden within all that has accumulated. I must believe I've mined for the gold and be willing to let the rest go.

It is no wonder I have put this off for so long. 

Digging Deep

The timing was impeccable. As I sorted through memory boxes and that which I have collected over the years, it was already on my radar. I was missing a box. 

Who would have guessed my son would ask me questions that would lead me to search for that specific box one day later? "I need to interview you for my class - I will need to know details about my birth, learning to walk ..." and my hearing faded to black as I realized how few details I can recall. Everything I need to know is in this house somewhere.

Me: [walking to my bedroom closet and looking at a shelf where the missing box used to reside, as if this would give me a clue as to its current location] This is where it used to be...

Son: We don't need to do this tonight

Me: I know I wouldn't throw it away. I know it. 

Son: Let's not worry about this now

Me: What did I do with it?!?

I wandered downstairs and dug through collection of tax papers - mine, Mom's & Dad's. Each box was clearly defined as "tax stuff". I pulled out one box after another and was just starting to lose hope when I spotted something that didn't look like income tax [I love those see through storage containers]. There it was!

As excited as I was to find the missing box, I was even more elated to discover "this" was the box I would like to use, to organize my cards. Ooooo!! I can't wait to get back, dig into this, dig deeper into this whole decluttering project and find efficient "forever homes" for that which I have kept.

My heart sank at the knowledge that I must deal with three lifetimes worth of paperwork as well. But on the flip side, shredding these documents will give me a whole heap of storage containers which will serve a much better purpose than holding onto that which was obsolete decades ago.

I unearthed the "Baby's First Year" calendar I knew would hold the answers my son will be asking when we make the time for this interview. The questions go deeper than my memory so I need a little help. This also reaffirms my defense that there IS a reason we hold onto this stuff.

What else will I discover as I continue to mine for gold within this house of ours? Time will tell.

P.S. I found an unexpected bonus while digging through the boxes - four long lost cat toys!! There was something in this for everyone.

Taming the Beast

After a weekend of sorting, culling and organizing papers, cards, family history and memorabilia, this is the not-as-messy-middle ground I must live with until next time:

I found things I didn't even know I had: 

• souveniers from P.E.I., that could have only come from Mom after her trip out there in 1984
• a scribbler Mom had saved from my "playing school" days, where I made up a day plan, wrote out assignments for my imaginary class, did the assignment myself, then marked it myself, back in the teacher role
• Christmas, birthday and "just because" cards from Mom with little more than her name signed, but the knowledge she had spent time to find just the right card - I have sorted them according to category and plan to pull out a random card to fit the occasion and feel Mom's presence when I miss her
• a forwarded email from my brother, to my sister (who had asked him for their punch recipe):

1. Curl fingers toward fist
2. Be careful not to tuck thumb inside fist. Broken thumbs may occur
3. Now raise fist up
4. Look directly at target
5. For increased power and velocity, twist hip and shoulder toward target as you deliver punch
6. For added joy and effectiveness, follow this punch with another from the opposite hand
7. This is known as the old one-two

Hope this has been helpful.

And I found more. So much more. Buried treasure was found within the massive heap of years worth of collecting that which felt special at the time. 

A new week is upon me and I had to sort myself out of the messy middle and tame the beast until next time. Funny thing is, I am actually looking forward to the next time.

Taking one hard step in a direction you want to go isn't easy, but it is almost always worth the effort. 

The Messy Middle

Sorting, organizing, culling and reminiscing.

This is "Saturday" in a nutshell.