Monday, January 26, 2015

Pajama Day

I’ve declared a Pajama Day. I searched my soul and every room of my house to find a reason NOT to, but to no avail. Not that there isn't plenty to do around here or no work deadlines. Just that they don’t trump PJ Day. Not today.

It’s Monday, the arch-enemy of Pajama Day. And we all know that most of the time Monday wins big time. Routine, guilt, obligation, shame, paycheck are part of the Monday Gang and well, six against one, who can win that battle? But every now and then…every once and again…even without the help of an impending storm or a sniffle, PJ Day finds its super-power and bamm! They lose.

We used to call it taking a mental health day, but frankly, I'm mentally quite healthy. I don't need a day to get my head together because somebody or something got to me. I'm good. All I need is to cozy up to a traditional work day, freshly showered and in my new PJs, and do NO work, guilt free. I mean NO work. Not housework. Not homework. Not heart-work. Not catch up work. Not work-work. None. 

That, my friend, is a Pajama Day.


Monday, January 19, 2015

Happy 2015!

I decided to give myself a break and use the entire month of January to get re-organized. Who takes on an organization project during the holidays? Okay, not me. I was overwhelmed at the very idea of having to get it all straightened out in the first few days of the year. So, I gave myself all month. February 1st is show time.

How disorganized had I become? My dresser drawers were a ball of confusion. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Did I say that I did not care? Not at all. After a bout with pneumonia that sneaked up on me and wore me all the way out, all I cared about was clean linen and pajamas. It mattered not at all which drawer they were shoved into. When I needed a pair of socks and found a mosh of stuff in that drawer that included Christmas gift wrap, I decided that last Thursday was the last day for that mess. Now every single drawer is in working order, with my Christmas-present PJs sitting proudly in their rightful place. I do love my PJs.

Drawers organized. Check.

Don’t ask me how it happened, but I had this paper shopping bag that was filling up with, well…paper. Bills, receipts, articles, cards to be mailed, notes to self, etc. Writers are partial to paper, yes? I pay all of my bills online, but I still get paper notices cuz I like it. I do. I digress. A paper bag y’all. I’m embarrassed. I think it got started on one of those pneumonia days when, after huffing and puffing and coughing my way up 27 stairs, I just started throwing stuff into the first thing I could find. Good thing that wasn’t a trash can. 

I knew I was feeling better when the rustle of that paper bag (hidden between my nightstand and bed) began to make my flesh crawl. On Friday I sat down and handled every piece of paper. Trashed receipts. Consolidated notes to self. Opened envelopes. Found three, count ‘em, three reimbursement checks from my health care provider. And two credit notices from utilities companies. There’s the case for opening stuff and not throwing it out ‘cuz it’s the third envelope from the same company this month (yes, each check came in a separate envelope).

Papers organized. Check.

On to the main closet. Twelve days to ground zero…

Happy New Year!