Keeping the Graffiti at Bay

I thought of posting this graffiti from South Congress on my Austin Daily Photo blog. But I decided to save those readers and just give it to you denizens of the Visible Woman. (The snowman is a nice touch, yes?) Not that I'm trying to protect those readers over there but, really, I need to get out and take some more 'representative' pictures for them. I've been a little under the weather with allergies (I guess, maybe cedar fever). A twelve-hour chunk of my day yesterday was devoted to sitting and drinking hot drinks and reading and watching TV and waiting for time to take more decongestant or Advil. Sad. It's good to not work so one can nurse whatever. I played tennis in the morning but the sneezing and dripping took a lot of the joy out of it. This morning I felt better until the drainage started while I was talking to my dad and I coughed some and, well, it wasn't pretty. Usually these things just take time, but I don't like giving them time.

So will I turn it around and accomplish something today? We have a stuffed to the gills garbage can going out today and a bunch of recycling. I've officially conquered the newspaper problem (for the moment, they keep showing up) with more going out than coming in until there are barely any papers that aren't today's sitting around. FFP just handed me some photographs to 'file' somewhere. I said "Yeah, I'll file them as well as I file anything around here!"

Mustn't get too discouraged, though. I have trouble looking at what I got rid of and, instead, tend to concentrate on what is still lurking. It's easy to walk around the house and see stuff that needs to be 'dealt with.' What's gone is starting to be a little more obvious: blank spaces on bookshelves (though there are still lots of books in lots of places), blank areas of rooms where something say that has been given away. But what's gone is overwhelmed by what's still here. Of course, when we are looking for something it is nowhere to be found. This morning we were looking for a spare key to someone else's house. I found unknown keys and keys to our deadbolt locks and keys to the mail box. But, well, you get the idea. Simplify, simplify. Eventually it will be easier by virtue of the fact that there will be fewer spots to look that have anything to look at. When you live somewhere thirty years things can wash up in corners of drawers and the backs of closets that are real puzzles.

Now if I can just start breathing easier I can get back into this crazy thrill ride that said we have room to keep whatever we want whether we could find it again, needed it, would ever use it or, even, remembered what its purpose was. That's hubris. A result of having too much space. The cure is painful, though. Sorting stuff and sorting it again.

By the way, I have no idea why I continue writing a blog every day. It must have something to do with displacing from everything else I need to do. There is no NaBloPoMo or Holidailies that I've signed up for. There is no requirement to meet. But 'just typing' here (and in my personal journal) feels like such an indulgence and treat that it feels like being nice to myself. And, I can do it while drinking coffee and sitting and waiting for the next sneeze or sniffle. But onward. Progress today. Just do something.