All I wanted to do this evening was finish my gingerbread stocking and of course that didn’t happen and I don’t know if I’m pissed off or just tired or a combo of both, but it seems like I never have enough time. The shop work I do during the daylight hours I consider play, but anything in the evening or home related stuff is considered work. There is never an end to the work! I should be able to come home and put my tired feet up like every other 9 to 5er but no, there's the accounting end of the business, a load of firewood to pile, a house that needs a scour from top to bottom, laundry spilling out into the hall, cooking meals and I'm so tired I have toothpicks holding up my lids.
On the way home tonight I drove by all the darkened houses and wondered how others manage their lives so they can go to bed at a decent time. Maybe I should take some sort of class or something, learn to manage time effectively, work smarter not harder or longer. Any job I undertake I do to the best of my ability, I'm first class all the way, but it’s starting and finishing one project before I move on to the next that I fall short on. I never seem to have the time to just tackle the paperwork and end the paperwork in one sitting. Five minutes each day would be a breeze instead of hours each month, all on the late side of evening. My son gets annoyed with me when he looks at my desk and sees piles of mess but every time I start one job I get distracted by two others so I’m running one step forward and two steps back until I find myself back at the starting gate and beginning all over again. I feel like a rat on a wheel!
There’s all the fun stuff at work, making product, playing with wool, hanging with customers but there are all the crap jobs that are always behind the scene, the cleaning, the paperwork, bill paying, filing, jobs just as important to keep running smoothly, but pin-in-the-eye boring and tedious.
Someone said the other day that a piece of paper should only be handled once. Fabulous I thought! I can do that! But that good intention lasted one day. Not too long ago I swore my desk would never be piled high with paper eeeeevvvveeerrrrrr again. I would pay bills as they come in and file them away PDQ. Deal with all the daily paper that seems to materialize out of nowhere. All the mail that comes in....whew....trees coming down all over the place to make useless flyers, advertisements most don’t care about, catalogs that continuously arrive because they change a couple of items, messages, notes to self, orders to place, so much paper to deal with and all I want to do is go downstairs and play in the shop and dream up new ideas.
Two weeks ago my desk was perfectly clear, I could see the fake wood and I swore this was a turning point, this would never happen again and now? There could be an avalanche any moment. The stapler is buried, couldn’t find a pen tonight and finding the phone when it rings is a major excavation, race against time so the person on the other end doesn’t hang up. So much for computers making a paperless society, what genius predicted that? And where's the joy in knowing that the avalanche of white will start building as early as the very next day. Last evening I drowned in a sea of white, dreamed of being eaten by a polar bear and then awoke to a light dusting of snow. I hate white....a reminder of what is waiting for me at the shop again tonight. I have to be open until 8:00 for the festival this evening so I might just sit and hook and say to hell with it all. It's not like it'll disappear so what's one more day.
And the F word….filing. I have so many things to file I’m thinking about bringing matches to work. A quick flick and toss and it's a marshmallow roast. I’ve never liked filing. Even when I worked in an office it was the last thing I’d do at the end of the week, let it pile up until I got the stink eye from the boss. I’ve never learned to do the painful stuff first, get it out of the way and move on. Pictures for patterns, the patterns, everything that comes out of the filing cabinet has to ultimately go back, but of course that never happens until the piles fall over and then it’s a forced task with swear words attached. Why can’t I do these things daily, in increments, so mole hills don't become mountains
Why can’t I be perfect? Maybe I set myself up with unrealistic expectations; I used to be so much better at being a perfectionist. Maybe I need a PA to pass on all the crap jobs, follow me around and call me Ms. Little and dote on my every need, pick up after me and make my chaotic world their bliss. Anyone out there interested in a no paying, earth moving job of being my “Little” helper? There’s free coffee and all the wool you can fondle! It's not a dirty, thankless job, really....paper is clean and I'd be eternally grateful, showering you with "Bless you" and "Thanks-you" until you get tired of hearing my voice.
Like Cyndi Lauper, this girl just wants to have fun but for some reason the stars aren't lining up just right! If I ever buy a lottery ticket and win, I'd employ dozens of people to assist me. Top of the list would be an accountant and a cleaner and I'd expand the shop and send out wool gatherers to bring back every last piece of plaid on this planet and stock it from floor to ceiling. I'd sit on my throne, I mean chair, hooking my latest inspiration with a dozen or so poodles at my feet and greet you as you come through the door. I'd survey all my "little" helpers make the product and stock the shelves, sort of like a rug hooking Santa Claus. A girl can dream......
The picture above is not a true representation of what my life looks like. I don't have cats or kids and my kitchen isn't that tidy. This picture represents how I feel, when things pile up in my office and I get behind. They say a picture speaks a thousand words and this one is a mouthful. I’m not a captain of industry, I’m a captive, besieged and held hostage by an army of paperwork!
This blog feels like a Seinfeld episode, a whole lot of something about nothing or is that a whole lot of nothing about something? I'm tired and maybe a bit foolish. Maybe I should just go to bed and wake up to a new day, a fresh start, at least the dishes are now done so I can wipe that off the list for a day.....like paperwork it's a vicious cycle that never ends. I suppose the trick is not to beat myself up so much. It’s really just a curse of caring too much. If I didn’t give a hoot, I’d be in bed right now with the rest of ya…..