My Clutter

Isn't denial such a wonderful thing?

It finally occurred to me: the clutter that now surrounds my professional and personal space is not just a recently acquired approach to life.  It probably still is, who knows, but perhaps, it also, and more accurately, reflects what goes on in my head.

Those among you who have known me a long time will remember I had a perfectionist streak when I was *ahem* younger.  My days were mostly planned, my goals well defined.  If I wanted something done a certain way, then that's how it was going to be done, even if it took a long time and a lot of effort.  I was tenacious.  All this may have ticked off a few of you, and, for that, I am sorry.  I did not mean to, really; I, simply, did not know any better.

I grew up to understand that the natural laws of the universe, and, perhaps, of some higher power, will not easily bend to mortal will.  So I learned to *naks* abandon things to their fate, to let chips fall where they might, to cross bridges when I got there, and, in this one unfortunate instance, to let old cliches flow unimpeded.

Strangely, on the day before I was to fly out for a working trip, on which I would take that picture on the previous post, a Christmas miracle, if you can call it that, happened.  My brain somehow pulled itself together and pointed out that perhaps this clutter accumulated because I was unable or unwilling to focus.  I do not have many light-bulb moments in my life, and that was one of them.

Here I am, just over a week later, and the clutter is now mostly gone.  Yay?  Perhaps.  It certainly shows in what I've managed to do at work.  At some point I was even sorely tempted, just to get it over with, to throw out stuff I had been saving for a future balikbayan box or donation to the homeless shelter.  And, after a dangerously long time, my laptop has finally returned to its shiny, organized, backed-up, defragmented, updated, virus-scanned best.

Unfortunately, I still do not know, at the moment, what it is I want to do after all.  But I think, or I've managed to convince myself, that knowing I have to do something is a start.  Baby steps, as they say.

Merry Christmas, everyone.  Maybe this time, we count our blessings, not ask for more.

My Life and Times 7

What do you do when you have to work 48 hours in a facility like this?

Why, you try to transcend the cheerlessness by wearing all your favorite clothes.  Hi hi.  Will return to this place in the next post.