touché, productivity nazi

"It’s become the default response when you ask anyone how they’re doing: 'Busy!' 'So busy.' 'Crazy busy.' It is, pretty obviously, a boast disguised as a complaint."

My wise and well-missed friend, Rich, posted this New York Times article The ‘Busy’ Trap by Tim Kreider to the ubiquitous facebook. Like he was reading my mind (or my blog).

"Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence or a vice; it is as indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets."

Self imposed and unexamined busyness. The Importance of What I Do. The Meaning Endless Meetings provide.

"The Puritans turned work into a virtue, evidently forgetting that God invented it as a punishment." 

This busyness I've recently become immersed in is a mindset that is fundamentally false, a "boast disguised as a complaint." I guess I am not so self-aware that I don't need to be reminded of simple, common-sense things. Thank you.

t-minus 2 months

Two months ago my dad was talking to me about what he and mom were thinking about doing for their 55th wedding anniversary. That, in itself, is a little odd for the non-celebrating, unsentimental couple they usually are. They considered Puerto Rico (where he was born and has relatives), Portugal (a great idea but I doubted they'd spend the money/travel that far) and something else I can't remember. And then, he said, but we've decided to spend our anniversary with you. In October. (4 months from the phone call, 2 months from today.)

• I am tickled.
• I am horrified.
• I am honored.
• I am terrified.

My parents haven't been here in ten years. You know all this DIY I've been referring to lately? That's the connection. So, to recap. I am thrilled that my parents are coming to visit but I'm bouncing between high anxiety and...less anxiety...

• My parents (mom-driven, family-wide) are 100% house-perfect crazy. Their house always looks like a model home. I am not shitting you.
• I love that we'll be celebrating their 55th anniversary here.
• My mother's standard is insane. But I am an adult! I choose how I live! BUT this is hard-wired. I can't escape how my fairly normal looking house will look to my folks.
• My house is in dire need of fixing up and this is probably just the impetus I needed.
• I can in no way get it up to the acceptable standard I was raised to expect but I'm going to die trying.

Stay tuned.

the perils of overenthusiasm

Bought a new shredder. Isn't it a beaut? Felt quite droll using the registration card for my first shred. Ha, ha, so ironical am I.

Then, we went to town on the bag of accumulated sensitive paperwork. Worked pretty well, only overheated twice (it has a temperature sensor and I appreciate the heads-up...rather than other shredders which just stopped for no apparent reason).

Damned if I can't find the manual now.

taming the chaos

Sister coming to visit. Very busy. DIY mavens, we are. New ceiling fan installed. Check. New kitchen faucet (and sprayer, ptl) installed. Check. Yardwork. St. Barbara's check. Homemade enchiladas and lasagna in the freezer. Check and check. Lists with check boxes checked. Check.

new ceiling fan. cool.

new faucet. smooth.

We're going to have so much fun. And my domestic duties will include far less domestic duty. Will report back.

but what shall i do for camoflauge?

Isn't it depressing to go to the zoo and see the animals in sterile, empty, box-like structures? Getting their environments as close their natural habitat seems the least we can do if we're going to keep them in captivity.

That's my new theory about having friends over: see me in my natural habitat rather than an artificially tidy space. A little bit of chaos is how I roll. Wouldn't it be better to see your friend [me] happily peering around a stack of boards or pile of twine, rather than gleaming pristine surfaces?

Okay, shit. I really like the pristine surfaces, too, but keeping them that way means I spend a great deal of creative energy on cleaning and not enough on...creating. Let's get back to the habitat analogy, okay?

So, this is just fair warning to my friends and family. We want you to come visit more often but I'm leaving some clutter. Perhaps a little dust. Oh, relax, the kitchen and bathroom will be clean but you may notice a lovely little sawzall case against the wall or a sewing machine on the dining room table...

Unlike the zoo, however, you can feed the animals at my house. And bring them alcoholic beverages.