Working From Home, Day 4

Yesterday was not productive, so a new plan was needed. Usually I prioritize the onerous tasks – like grading essays – but today I identified what takes up the most space.

La Casa de Tontería, aka The House of Nonsense, is too small to have this much visual clutter.   When the livingroom furniture is clear again, my mind will be, too!

My co-workers also struggle with the work-at-home routine. As a particular married lady wrote yesterday, “I’m going to report my co-worker to HR* for sexual harassment.  😂🤣” 


*Human Resource Department.

Miscalculating My Mess

This past winter, my friend – henceforth known as Pickles – challenged me to the 30-Day Minimalism Game (full details here). Each day we were to chronicle what we donated or tossed; e.g. one item on Day 1, two on Day 2, etc.

I didn’t want to play because, between regular (long) hours in The Young Human and at physical therapy, my bed beckoned. But Pickles was facing off against her charming Picklettes, so she wanted adults to play, too.

I told her I’d encourage her and comment on her photos, but I couldn’t do the daily updates. After all, I don’t have a smartphone and I deliberately cut back on having a so-called digital life. 

Secretly, I planned to cheat. I’d just figure out the total, spend a weekend collecting items, and post a list at the end. However….

There are 465 items to “win” the challenge.

FOUR HUNDRED SIXTY AND FIVE!!!

It was impossible.

On Day Nine, there should have been 45 things in the donation box or the dump. There were nineteen in the former. The three trashed items were worn-out clothes that I immediately replaced. I couldn’t find anything more unless I got rid of things I had already decided to keep. I began to consider how to cheat without breaking the rules. For example, there are 52 cards in a deck, plus jokers.

But I wasn’t going to lie to my friend. I told Pickles that I could be her cheerleader, not a player.

I admit I was more baffled than thrilled by how much I’d pared down my belongings. I’d streamlined my life to make room for writing – and It showed. So why did I think I had so much superfluous stuff?

I figured it out a few days ago.

When it comes to projects involving material possessions, I grossly miscalculate how big and bad they will be.

Case in point: My rooms at The Young Human Factory needed to be organized and packed up.

Last Friday marked the end of another year.  A crew and equipment arrived this week to tear off the roof and replace it. In-between, I had to prepare for the inevitable fallout of a construction project.

My colleagues and I weren’t given any instructions, just warned that we cannot return until July. Even the custodians, who know everything, had only a bare outline. Therefore, I set an entire Saturday afternoon aside to gather summer materials, clear all horizontal surfaces, and pack away items in (I hope) dust-proof places.

Less than three hours was all it took.

That included sorting through several binders of paperwork given to me  by a former colleague.* I was amazed that even the office, which seems disorganized during the year, needed superficial changes

I begin to wonder how many other projects that I view with dread – rearranging the garden, organizing boxes of photos – aren’t nearly as bad as they appear.


*She lasted less than five years in the profession and went to work for the military in some capacity. No doubt she uses the skills she learned in The Young Human Factory to break the wills of recalcitrant spies or something similar.

2018 Progress Report #2

I missed last week’s blog because I went to The Young Human Factory and stayed there until quite late, assessing the quality of our products. I spent extra hours there this weekend, too, but to get ahead.

  • I made the second payment on the principle of La Casa de Tontería’s mortgage.
  • After a month of bullet journaling, I had to replace the journal. Schedules kept changing, events were cancelled indefinitely, and the pages didn’t hold up to the rigors of being crammed into an already-stuffed satchel and stuffed with sticky-notes. Pro tip: write dates in ink, plans in pencil.
  • My writing stinks. I cannot find a way to save the novel’s rough draft. In the meantime, members of my writers’ group are making inroads all over Steemit, Amazon, magazines, and actual printing presses! I have got to finish a short story STAT before the pros have no time to read other people’s crappy drafts.

2018 Progress Report #1

  • The Bullet Journal has already shown me that I have unrealistic expectations of myself. I scheduled about 48 hours of work on the 5th, for example.
  • I made the first monthly payment on the principle of La Casa de Tontería’s mortgage. I could have set up an automatic payment, but I want this to be a conscious decision and a celebration.
  • I paid for a short haircut. I prefer long hair, but this time of year, static electricity builds up as it brushes back and forth over sweaters. Then it twists and tangles onto itself. I end up looking like I rolled out of bed and stuck my finger in an electrical socket!
  • I made a breakfast date with a friend. We both have full schedules – she’s an elected official – and lunch always seems like an interruption.

Another bullet journal idea!

After I posted about starting a bullet journal, an online pal and an old colleague sent me a link to Prevention writer Erinne Magee’s explanation of how she used bullet journaling to lose weight.

Although I’m more interested in gaining muscle and stamina, I got some ideas. I hope other readers may find it helpful, too.

Trying out the Bullet Journal

I started a Bullet Journal this week.

I’m actually a little angry that I didn’t do it before. Not angry at myself, mind you – no, I’m angry at the ladies who introduced me to the concept, complete with different colors, highlighters, stickers, etc. and apps on their Smartphones.

In other words, they complicated it when the entire point of bullet journaling is to focus on what is important. Ryder Carroll created it as a tool to combat a cluttered mind and a distracted life. Continue reading

The Factory is not closed for me…

As faithful readers may remember, my job as a Quality Control Inspector at the Young Human Factory underwent a transformation this fall. I was put in charge of teaching English to members – or potential members – of the Middle School Mafia. A daunting task, but I am buoyed by the vision of them communicating without grunts, egg-flinging, and ritualistic doorbell-ringing.

For the same low price, I now deliver eight more hours a week of service AND the daily 53 minutes of preparation time was eliminated. But it has really helped my time management, since I have so little.

Weekends are not my own, nor vacations. Continue reading

The Factory is closed but the work continues…

I went to the Young Human Factory yesterday. The custodians and technical staff are making repairs and updates while production is down.  I did a few things, like data entry and uploading a letter of recommendation. But the heating system isn’t working properly – I covet those open-tipped gloves of Bob Cratchet – so I left after a few hours.

Today I’ll drop off some paperwork and bring a few things home. I had a dream once of Separation of Work and Casa, but the dreams of innocent girls whither in the chill of reality.

 

An unpaid part-time job

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I had an epiphany of sorts when I started considering a part-time job: It’s very difficult to schedule around my full-time job.  My colleagues who moonlight set their own hours; e.g. driving for UBER, making items they sell online, housecleaning, etc.

I decided to wait until a couple of months have passed at The Factory. Then I can re-assess whether I truly need additional income. And whether I’ll have weekends free to do so. (At the moment, no. The only reason I’m not typing away at yet another web-based tool  is that I’m awaiting a reply to an e-mail I sent an administrator; re: log-in problems.)

In the meantime, I began to fill in my schedule with writing, exercise, and housekeeping. Before long, I discovered that the hours dedicated to my health regimen – from preparing (and freezing) nutritious meals to swimming – will take 10-15 hours.

There’s a part-time job!