As work has gotten increasingly busy, I’ve had less time during the day to think about my favorite topic: me. I was driving home Friday after having spent another day out of my office working elsewhere, and I was thinking, “FUCK! I have so much shit to do and I never have time to get it done.” And there it was. That feeling that hits me once every five years where I then change my life in a weekend. The last time this happened, I quit my job, put all my furniture up for sale in the Atlanta Journal Constitution and my ex and I got in the car and drove across the country. Then it happened again on that trip, in line at a Safeway in Frisco Colorado when the cashier couldn’t figure out how to give me cash back. I realized I was selling myself short by not going back to grad school. There were plenty of stupid people in this world. I was capable of contributing more to the world than I had. A couple weeks later, I was accepted to an MBA program. I’m determined. When I decide it is time for change, I’m usually instituting that change within 15 minutes. And it is usually extreme.
So I went home Friday and crashed, knowing that if this was anything like times past, it was going to be a long weekend. I slept Friday from 7 p.m. until Saturday at 10:30 a.m. I woke up, checked the phone, saw Sherlock had tried to check in with me, then he called as I was about to call him back.
Sherlock: The dogs haven’t been out since you got home from work last night?
Velvet: No. And I’m still in bed.
Sherlock: Okay. I’m coming over and I’ll take them out.
Velvet: Thanks. I can’t leave the house today.
I basically assessed that I have a few issues here. The first is that I don’t have enough free time to do the things I need to do. The second is that the things I need to do, like laundry, trump the secondary projects like spring cleaning. First thing was to dedicate the weekend to making the major secondary project of cleaning out my house into a primary project. Second thing, to come later, was to reassess where my personal time goes and why I can’t get these things done.
Sherlock did as promised, and took the dogs to the park for an hour and a half. When he, Sammy and Thora walked back in, all three of them were like, “What the fuck!”
I had everything out of every closet and it was all over the house. I am not a packrat. But those damn boxes my parents brought tipped my delicate balance of useful stuff vs. non-useful stuff totally off kilter.
Sherlock: Holy shit. Can I help you?
Velvet: Yes. Take a picture of the sewing machine for me so I can list it for sale.
I resumed managing mass exodus of things from my closets. Buh-bye Kappa Kappa Gamma shirts. Buh-bye Almost Famous movie poster. Buh-bye fabric I will never use to sew cute things because I’m selling the sewing machine in about five minutes.
Sherlock: I’m done. What’s next.
Velvet: Find a picture of my Harley somewhere and list that for sale too.
Sherlock: Are you fucking kidding me? Please say you are kidding.
Velvet: No. I’m not. Get rid of it.
Sherlock: Well, I’m glad you are throwing all this stuff away, but the Harley?
Velvet: Sell it. Sell everything. Sammy and Thora better hold on for dear life or they are in danger of getting sold too.
Sammy: Fuck you bitch.
Thora: We need our own apartment Sammy.
Magazines and books – gone. Clothes and shoes – ready to donate. Pile of totally useless crap no one wants – sitting on the sidewalk in front of my building with a sign marked FREE on it.
Sherlock: Are you sure you don’t want to do what the Fencer suggested and have a “Buy Velvet’s stuff auction?”
Velvet: No. None of this stuff is any good. Pitch it.
Sherlock: You are kicking ass. Is this bag of trash ready to get tossed?
Sherlock: What’s next?
Velvet: I have to go through my tapes, (yessss cassette tapes,) and see what I have in there that I can just download online and then toss the tapes.
I sat down on the floor at 4 p.m. with three dozen tapes and the tape player, made lists of what I wanted to download, then pitched the tapes out. The walk down memory lane really slowed the process. I didn’t finish until after midnight. I can’t believe how many mix tapes I had. “Velvet’s Awesome Eighties Mix,” “Freshman Year in the Keys,” “We’re Seniors! YAY!” A sample. Name that tune!
We could fuck until the dawn, making love till cherry’s gone. (mmm hmmm…)
Just hit the east side of the LBC. (one of the greatest sampled songs ever.)
I used to love to make you cry, it made me feel like a man inside. (love this song!)
In 65, I was 17, and running up 101. (good for the treadmill)
Last time that we had this conversation, I decided we should be friends. (I know..)
Tonight’s the night we’ll make history. (Aww!)
If you wanna see me try a beeper number baby when you need me. (Sniff sniff.)
You’re the fastest runner but you’re not allowed to win. (8th grade. Solid.)
Cause you give me a good vibe doncha know baby. (makes me wanna dance.)
If it’s good I’ll call her everyday, got your number off the bathroom wall. (LOVE this band.)
Don’t forget it’s me who put you where you are now, and I can put you back now too. (who doesn’t know the words to this?)
G’s up hoes down while ya motherfuckers bounce to this. (Baliff? Take him away.)
He brought the woman out of me, so many times, easily. (whore!)
I finally went to bed after midnight. I think Sherlock learned that when I get in these moods to clean, I am unstoppable. Anything not nailed down goes down the trash chute. I am the only one in my family who does not suffer from packus rattis-itis. Growing up around stacks of crap made me want to always have clean tabletops and a minimum of crap. And when the crap starts to explode from the one or two closets where it is currently living, then it all must go.
The “Organize my Life” campaign is in full force. Since my free time is at a minimum these days, I started plotting. The one thought I kept coming back to was “What the fuck am I doing? I spend so much time online between work and the blog crap.” Now I have an action plan. It’s started with the decluttering of my life in the way of physical possessions, now it moved to decluttering my free time from distractions. Sayonora Comcast! I’m tired of paying you $100 a month for spotty service at best. In addition to the entertainment distractions you provide, I spend too much time on the phone with you every month, and that’s a time suck. See ya later Netflix, you are eating all my free time because I feel compelled in the Velvet-family-fashion to get my “money’s worth” and watch the movies and return asap. I cannot participate in a plan that says, “Keep them as long as you want!” I know their business model relies on me keeping them forever. It makes me want to dispose those movies immediately after the 100 minutes it takes them to play.
I’m officially working on a major investment project that will require a lot of research on my end as well as a personal project that also requires my attention. In addition to that, I have to pay attention to Sherlock so he won’t dump me, and I’m growing really private in our relationship. I want to write less about the personal things between us and frankly, I don’t really want to write about anything else here either. It is time to close that window into my life. So, I’m effectively reducing my blogging endeavors.*
- * The Fine Print:
I have always been 100% honest. Trust me, this blogging slowdown has nothing to do with the current rage of outing bloggers by name and employer or “people” commenting as me with my real name – even though that behavior is unbelievably despicable. It has everything to do with me reclaiming my personal time and reallocating it to things that matter: my dogs, my boyfriend and my two projects. In that order. HA!