This past weekend found me psyched up chiefly to set my holiday-themed house in order.
But there’s a rhythm to such a process. It just doesn’t start under my new fake Christmas tree.
Actually, it kind of works backwards.
First, the traditional storage places must be re-ordered and prepared to receive all that stuff that I hauled out to proclaim the season, as well as the new stuff acquired for the same purpose.
Disorder was the state in which I found myself Saturday morning, just a few days after the departure of my nearest and dearest.
The obvious place to begin was my personal walk-in closet, which was strewn with garments, as well as wrapping paper, hardware and all other manner of stuff I’d put there to avoid cluttering the rest of the house.
The new, soon-to-be-dismantled tree was the immediate impetus for orderly storage.
Frankly, it had to go somewhere, although, on reflection, I guess I could have put it in the unheated, unfloored attic on last resort. Still, that doesn’t seem in the new tree’s best interests.
The only way I seem to be able to re-order a space is to pull almost everything out of it. The two adjoining rooms became the temporary placements for things from a tall stepladder to extra chairs and a safe Margaret’s beau gave me because he decided someone living in New Orleans (himself) should have a safe that floats.
With help from the vacuum cleaner and more hangers, order was restored, and I discovered the disassembled tree, now boxed tightly, fit there nicely after I discovered it was too heavy for me to haul upstairs, even with the assistance of my trusty dolly.
Thus began the story of the weekend, mostly accomplished as The Grandpuppy watched sleepily from the living room sofa, a favorite perch.
Now that that’s done, I turn to other pursuits involving order.
Naturally, we think about preparing to prepare our annual income tax reports. I’ve got records here and there to collect, then look back over my detailed calendar to ensure I’ve remembered as much as possible.
The Purveyors of Political Fear say that now we’ve barely avoided the Fiscal Cliff, folks like me, questions remain about whether we early-tax filers can go ahead for the much anticipated mid-February refunds.
I am not quite sure why this is could be an issue because my 2012 tax report ought not to have anything to do with federal withholding tax uncertainties for 2013 or the loss of the payroll deduction or whatever else our fabulous political representatives to the U.S. House and Senate will or won’t do to our financial lives.
(Why do we keep sending these people back and expect something different to happen?)
My latest organization task, though, is more immediate and electronic.
Remember all those online orders you and I made during 2012? Well, those businesses always asked for our email addresses so they could keep us apprised about the status of our little purchases.
What they also wanted was to build their marketing address books and bombard us regularly with “deals” we simply couldn’t miss out on.
Recently, I was instructed that those annoying emails can be dispatched via the “unsubscribe” link written in teeeny, tiny print at the bottom of the offer.
How satisfying, even to re-order my own cyberspace.
Happy New Year, everybody!
Patsy R. Brumfield writes a Thursday column. Contact her at (662) 678-1596 or firstname.lastname@example.org. Follow her on Twitter @realnewsqueen.