Dear Mom,
A little late, but Happy New Year! So much for being more on top of things for 2012. But hey, I've been busy. I had to make sure I ate the rest of those chocolate Santa heads. Waste not want not. How can you concentrate on goals, like watching your weight, when Santa heads are staring at you? They're not staring at me any more.
I had to make sure I started cleaning out my closet. How can I work on things if I can't find them? Part of it is finished, but now I have the clothes to go through, but at least I can walk in there now.
Next I'll be heading to the writing room, but once I'm in there it might be a long time before you hear from me again. My husband says, "You're the most disorganized organized person I know." That pretty much explain my writing room... a disorganized organized mess. I'm shooting for removing the disorganized part. Wish me luck. I'll need every bit of it.
Showing posts with label organized. Show all posts
Showing posts with label organized. Show all posts
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
A Disorganized Past Life
Dear Mom,
I’m trying to get more organized. My husband says I’m the most disorganized organized person he’s met. Disorganized organized? I get it, but it probably doesn’t make sense.
I knew I had kept this Indian doll and a handmitten powderpuff—both came from your firstborn Suzanne. Sue, as I called her then (and still do) back from a trip to Arizona brought me the Indian doll as a souvenir. I treasured it so much, I wouldn’t play with it and kept it in the plastic bag. Through the years her neck got broke causing her head to dislodge but she stayed hidden inside the bag in a box. When I pulled her out the other day—some 40 years later—I managed to put her head back on but noticed her right ankle was a bit crushed. I wondered at my protection of this doll and why I found her so precious, wanting to keep her safe. I speculate I may have been Native American in another life. I’ve had neck issues, and recently my right ankle has given me trouble. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I think we carry things with us from one life to another working them out as we go along.
As far as getting organized, I keep finding stuff causing me to be more disorganized. Yep, disorganized organized.
I’m trying to get more organized. My husband says I’m the most disorganized organized person he’s met. Disorganized organized? I get it, but it probably doesn’t make sense.
I knew I had kept this Indian doll and a handmitten powderpuff—both came from your firstborn Suzanne. Sue, as I called her then (and still do) back from a trip to Arizona brought me the Indian doll as a souvenir. I treasured it so much, I wouldn’t play with it and kept it in the plastic bag. Through the years her neck got broke causing her head to dislodge but she stayed hidden inside the bag in a box. When I pulled her out the other day—some 40 years later—I managed to put her head back on but noticed her right ankle was a bit crushed. I wondered at my protection of this doll and why I found her so precious, wanting to keep her safe. I speculate I may have been Native American in another life. I’ve had neck issues, and recently my right ankle has given me trouble. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I think we carry things with us from one life to another working them out as we go along.
As far as getting organized, I keep finding stuff causing me to be more disorganized. Yep, disorganized organized.
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