Ever just want a do-over? Go back and erase something bone-headed you did? I used to think I'd like to go back and not break my wrist into a million pieces resulting in six surgeries, eleven years of chronic pain, and a wrist that is now fused. But I don't think that's a good idea. (And I probably have seen too many time-travel movies...) Maybe who I am would radically change – maybe going through all that adversity has profoundly shaped my personality for good instead of for bad. (I've always thought of it as a bad event.) Maybe I'll pick a simpler do-over.
I think I'd like to move into my house again. Almost 13 years ago we came from a 760 square foot house into this 1700 square foot ranch with a (weirdly) finished basement almost the same size. We unpacked. Well, mostly. I still have my antique Swedish chest that I've never unpacked, which every time I think of it, I wonder what's in there that I haven't missed in 13 years. I suspect nick-nacks. Not that these thoughts ever lead to actual unpacking.
I don't know how it happened (though I have some suspicions) but our house is overflowing with clutter and the basement, well, let's call it semi-inhabitable. Where you can walk. I'd like to move in again and THROW AWAY A LOT OF CRAP and then make a NO CRAP ALLOWED rule. A place for everything and everything in its place.
I'd also like each member of the family to put their own stuff away, instead of piling it up in places it doesn't belong. Any flat surface that I manage to clear off, instantly sucks in clutter again. I've seriously found that if I DON'T clean off a spot, it can't gather MORE clutter because it would be too precariously perched, so it stays in a relatively stable state of stasis.
Here's a typical example. Boy orders game from Amazon. Boy unpacks game. Boy leaves packaging, receipt, knife, and cellophane on kitchen table. Husband does minor fix-it job. Leaves electrical tape, scissors, and two screw drivers on kitchen table. I'm trying to set table for dinner. First I have to put away all that crap, then I can proceed. (But at least I found a pair of scissors! Those seem to just vanish into thin air...) Ask them to put it away you say? The fix-it stuff would end up on what's supposed to be my telephone table: pad of paper, basket of pens and pencils, and my coupon basket. What's there now? An assortment of tools, glues, and car parts.
Yeah, I said car parts. We have, as many of you know, several (OK, five) old cars. They require maintenance. Car parts come in the mail. Repeat scenario from game coming in mail in above paragraph. Put car part on little table in kitchen. “It's not worth putting it in the garage, I'm about to install it!” Yeah, like, um, next week. Meanwhile, it gets to live in my kitchen?? I don't get it.
I'm fighting an uphill battle. We're all pack-rats. There's one person who feebly, at times, tries to un-pack-rat, but it's such a hopeless endeavor that she usually gives up and goes to procrastiknit. Wouldn't you? Or would you ask for a do-over?