Loose ends. Lack of closure. Abandoned home repairs. Partially completed projects. Half finished dirty dish piles in the sink. A stack of papers graded but not entered and sitting on my dresser in between piles of (probably) clean laundry.
Boxes stacked precariously in makeshift pillars in corners and blocking doorways. Tax information collected but not filed. Court paperwork received without response. Bills opened and not paid. Questions and invitations sans reply.
Dangling prepositions. Incomplete sentences. Introductions without conclusions. Beginnings, middles, but, alas, no endings.
This is how my story is being told right now, in little spurts. It’s:
Usually I’m cool with that. I like not knowing how the story will end. I do, however, like knowing which book I’m reading and in which chapter I’m engrossed.
Also, I prefer a bit of logical organization to the storyline, granting me permission to follow along without quite so much effort.
I’m typically a rather organized person. I like calendars. And lists. And containers.
Clutter is not my friend.
I can only handle messy for so long before I try to put it in a basket. With a label. On a shelf. In a cabinet.
However, in my pursuit to produce rapid and immediate change in my life, I’ve let a few things pile up. I’ve been pretty busy getting happy, going places, growing and expanding. The things I want to show, I’ve been keeping proudly on display. The things I don’t? Well, I’ve just been shoving the door to my bulging closet closed every night and trusting it will all be alright in the morning.
It usually is, somehow or another.
I sort. I shift. I purge. I shift again. I change the direction of objects in motion.
But now, I have literally run out of closet space. I have no room left.
The repercussions of my deliberate avoidance are spilling out and interferring with my day to day interactions; I can’t keep stepping over them anymore.
Well then, perhaps I ought to put a note in to the author, shall I, and suggest she wrap a few storylines up?
I’m all done building intrigue and suspense, and rather than continue to write the anticlimactic theme that is becoming my reality, I say it’s time to craft the conclusion to a few of the big plot twists.
I created this mess. I can narrate my way out of it. I already know how.
Second step: Get.Shit.Done.
No wait. Like now, actually. Right now.
When overwhelmed with tasks, the answer is not to ignore it (believe me, I’ve tried). The answer is not to give a new name or a new home (and yes, I’ve tried that too). The answer is to just get started. Deal with it. Embrace it. Own it. Pick up your boxes, papers and feet and get moving.
The journey of 1,000 pages, err, steps, begins with the first action.
So here we go.
You know the drill.
Try. Fail. Learn. Repeat.
P.S.- Anyone wanna come over and help me unpack? I’ll pay you in jokes. Probably bad ones, but you know, if you can’t laugh at yourself. . . then others will.
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