Tag Archives: unexpected consequences

Homeless

Hm. I know why I removed the posts from here. I know why, okay?

The memoir is being looked at by a publisher, next week. If he buys it, it will become a book. Great and not.

The memoir is subtitled: post-traumatic stress disorder, science fiction, & love. Certainly a summation of my life in eight words.

My plan is to after the manuscript gets delivered to work on the house cleaning plan. I have a blog site all set up and functioning for that already.

But . . . .

I feel like I’ve lost my home. Silly, ‘huh? I’m semi-anonymous here. If people know me IRL, they know my real name. It’s not hidden all that well. But I was comfortable behind the smoke screen.

The memoir is going to remove that. Further taking the cleaning/dehoarding posts from here and moving them (or not) to the other blog will do that too.  I plan to publish the cleaning plan as well, if I ever manage to actually get it to work.

Feeling a bit naked here — there’s a breeze, right? Someone got a door open? Or, maybe it’s just a hole in my armor.

Probably that. And it’s permanent. I guess I’d better get used to it, ‘eh?

J

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Someone Got It!

New hygenist at the dentist. Talked about the PTSD and the hoarding/dehoarding. She asked me, “What’s your degree in, or did you get one?”

She understood the reason I never did, without my telling her specifically. I’m sure my family thinks I’m just too lazy or maybe too intimidated. That’s not it. Same thing as the dehoarding or finishing almost anything: makes me too visible and I want to panic.

I was gobsmacked. People get this who know me. But most people don’t draw the line between why I became a hoarder and why I didn’t get a 4 year or more degree.

Either I’m telling the stories better, or she’s just really bright about people.

Not sure which!

Vocabulary Lesson

I found another label for my decorating style which appeals.

lagom

It’s a Swedish term, meaning not too much, not too little. Perfect!

Hygge, Cwtch, & Lagom

[Sounds like a law firm, doesn’t it?]

I came up with this:


 

Hygge, Cwtch, & Lagom:

Home decorating for the confused or those who just won’t do it like everyone else!


 

I printed it in an elaborate script. I may frame it? Cross stitch? Dunno — we’ll see.

But then serendipity and happenstance got involved. . . when I found lagom, I wrote it down incorrectly, as “lagon.”

Which, according to the urban dictionary, is:

The mythical beast you must slay to get anything done online.

Which resonates of course.
No test; I promise!
J

I Discovered

…eleven years ago today, a website, 43things.com, which no longer exists, alas. I was looking for 43folders.com and misremembered the name. Best mistake I’ve ever made!

43t, as it is affectionately known, was a wonderful site full of (mostly) supportive people, many of whom are still friends of mine. The problems came about because it was an Amazon site and they had to make $. Instead of using what they had, namely a community of people who probably would have paid for a portal to be there, they did other things: supercheers, then links to FB and twitter available to anyone, for your posts or any other. It didn’t work.

11 yo birhthday cake

Many of us wound up at popclogs.com after 43t closed. My account is inactive right now. Can’t remember my password and there’s some problem why they can’t give it to me.

My dad and my mom and one of my best friends all died very near my “real” birthday, so I use today as my birthday instead — because I discovered my first real “family” eleven years ago, today.

Just a reminder to me and others — mistakes aren’t always mistakes in the long run and families can be made if need be!


I just updated the “chore status 8/1” post. It seems the more I get done, the more there is to do — discouraging!!!

There Are at Least 1,000,000 Better Ways to Start Your Day

Than I just did.

In the great furniture shuffle (interrupted) a framed picture wound up balanced against a desk in the hallway between the kitchen & the living room.

It isn’t there now. I was trying to do something, tripped and landed, butt down on the framed artwork. My leg has 2 glass cuts, one a puncture and the other a slice. Apparently, no veins were hit as it stopped bleeding fairly quickly; I have a huge band aid over both.

Needless to say, a doctor’s visit, to make sure that it is properly cleaned and that no glass remains is in my near future.

So, the hallway got cleared, no surprise. The frame and broken glass are outside awaiting being taken to the dump. The cardboard and paper backing are in the recycle bin. The artwork is fine — I wish I could say the same for me!

wtf.

J