Persephone Posts From A Clean and Organized Home

I think it's kind of funny that Abby and I both have cleaning / organizing on the brain this weekend.

The slight difference being that I am not too proud to beg for and/or buy help when I get completely overwhelmed.

I have some major schedule changes that take effect tomorrow morning - schedule changes where living in the chaos that was my apartment would become untenable. 

My apartment was, to say the least, overwhelming.

I hired a good friend of mine to tackle the living room, kitchen, and office.

I took care of the bathroom and assisted with the above - which took from 1pm yesterday until nearly 9pm last night.

This still left two major things for today - the laundry (aka Mt. Washmore) and cleaning the master bedroom.  Left alone this could have taken me the entire day - it usually does.

However, another good friend met me this morning - we went grocery shopping (random, I know) and then she tackled the laundry issue with a vengeance. 

By 3pm it was pretty much all washed/dried/put away, and the master bedroom is clean w/ fresh new sheets on the bed. 

In the middle of that I managed to make us lunch and get stuff in the Crockpot for dinner which smells heavenly right now.

The last thing I have to do to get prepared for "the great May experiment" is to get all of my schedules written for the week and assemble my binder.

Then I need to follow my night routine and set myself up for success in the morning. 

Wish me luck?

-Seph

IKEA is bad for Pregnant Abby's brain

I begin by saying that I have never liked IKEA.  If you haven't heard of IKEA, Google it.  Also, what planet do you live on exactly?

I've never known precisely why I have such aversion to the store.  Much of what they sell is cheaply made, but there are a few pieces that are quite well done.  They have products that are pretty ingenious, and everything I've seen is reasonably priced.  It's certainly more stylish than Wal-mart.

Today I finally figured it out.  It's too damn organized, and that makes me jealous and frustrated and angry with myself.

I look at the perfectly coordinated living room setups, the clever and highly functional organizational storage and think, "why the hell can't I do that?"

I don't know.  I have read books on organizing spaces.  I've looked at tons of examples.  I've tried my entire life (that I can remember) trying to figure out how to keep track of my stuff and keep it clean and not have it end up all over the place.  There's just a big gaping hole in my brain where step 2 should live.

step 1.  Buy organizing things.

step 2. Uhhhhhh.

step 3. Organized!

IKEA makes it look so damn easy, and it pisses me off.  Of course, I also found useful shiny awesome things to purchase.  "Here, IKEA, you who makes me feel inadequate and horrible, please, take my money as well.  Thank you, may I have another?"

Friends have offered to help me organize.  I thank each one sincerely, but never take them up on it.  Why?  I'm not sure, but I think it's a combination of things.

1. My house is a horribly embarrassing mess.

2. I feel I ought to be able to do it.

3. I don't want to end up on Hoarders...and I can't if no one nominates me.  They won't nominate me if they don't know.  See item 1.

4. Guilt.  Guilty guilt ridden guilt with shredded guilt on top.

What do I do?

Persephone Walks Through the Wardrobe

This pretty much sums up my day / mood prior to 6pm:

My night was salvaged by good friends and a much needed phone call.

Still, part of me just wishes I could exit the back of my closest into a far away land where I find out I'm royalty and also somehow manage to banish winter.

*grumble*

Abby - WTF

Last week was hell.  Mostly.
Monday - Husband in the hospital.
Tuesday - House robbed in the middle of the day.  SRSLY?!  Friend goes to the emergency room that night.  I pick up their daughter and watch her while friend and husband are in the hospital.
Wednesday - Finally find the cats.  They are terrified.  Talk to insurance.  Discover they are called claim adjusters because they take your claim and adjust it to what they prefer.
Thursday - Husband comes home.  Collects serial numbers and pictures and calls detective and insurance.
Friday - Bright spot: saw the Naptown Rollergirls in action.  Of course they won.
Saturday - Fancy literacy fundraising dinner with the PILs and friends.

So, it ended well anyway.  The only thing that has kept me going throughout last week was one slogan from Al Anon:  Do the next right thing.  Sometimes that thing was calling the police, others it was not telling my husband we'd been robbed until after he was past the worst parts.  On Tuesday night it was spending time with my 10 year old friend watching The Princess Bride and drinking tea while we waited for her parents to get home from the hospital.
She said, "I'm scared, Aunt Abby."
I said, "Me too."
"Whatever.  Nothing scares you, Auntie."
I just about cried.  I told her, "Sure it does.  It's what you do when you're scared that makes all the difference.  And what we do right now is send up a prayer for your mom, go home, and watch The Princess Bride."  
Her mom has completely recovered.

Random thoughts about the Flylady website.  First of all, the site was definitely designed for people with time on their hands.  The layout isn't user-friendly at all.  I had to turn off email notifications because I was getting nearly 20 emails per day with all kinds of advice for which I wasn't ready and didn't have time to read.  I find her writing style to be patronizing and annoying.  I don't like being referred to as a Precious FlyBaby.
On the other hand, the advice itself has been great.  I feel more productive in makeup, I try to shine my sink every day.  I won't be doing Day 3 because that's reading through the convoluted maze that is the Flylady site.  I stopped doing the BabySteps last week for obvious reasons, so now I'm on Day 4.  This day involves sticky notes (I dislike them) so Day 5 is to counter my negative self-defeating thoughts with happy shiny self-love.  Luckily I don't have any negative thoughts because I'm a freaking rock star.  On to Day 6!  I have to put out a Hot Spot.

A Hot Spot is an area in a room that, if left unattended, will take over and grow into a cluttery monster of epic proportions.  One of the hot spots in our house is the living room coffee table.  I think I've found another gem.  I'm going to go clean it now.  I hope the monster doesn't try to eat my fingers.

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do - Seph Attempts to Kick Caffeine

Well, hi.

This will be short due to the OMG MAKE IT GO AWAY headache I have.

If anyone tries to convince you that caffeine is NOT a drug, they are wrong.

I kicked caffeine once before, in 2001, and it took strep throat plus five days in bed.  I was off the stuff for over 2 years, but it only took one iced coffee to bring about the last decade of addiction.

Even though I quit soda in January, I was still drinking black tea every morning along with the occasional chai. 

After my bread/sugar crash extravaganza on Monday, and the way I felt on Tuesday because of it - I realized that I need to get rid of the caffeine demon too.

I meant to start that this weekend, but I ended up starting it yesterday.  Honestly, I thought it would go easier this time, because I was drinking so much less than when I quit before.  I was wrong.

I'm not going to lie.  It hurts.

My head is pounding, my appetite is crazy go nuts, I'm totally emotional, and I feel rather like jabbing sharp metal objects through my eye sockets and into my brain.

I know that one Dr. Pepper or cup of tea would make this pain go away.

I have to stay strong.  It has to get better than this.  My overall health is worth this transition.

Braiiiiiiinnnnnsss

-Seph

Persephone Outlines - How NOT to Follow Through with a Plan

Well, now I am taking Abby's post time - because she has some external stuff to deal with and I am sort of on internal implode.

I had a really hard and frustrating day at work yesterday, followed by my first therapy appointment in weeks.

Prior to yesterday, I'd never had a 90 minute therapy session.  I also can't even articulate the amount of anxiety I had managed to build up prior to the appointment itself.  (Though the people I talked to in that final 30 minutes have a good idea of it.)

The session itself was actually really positive.  My therapist pretty much rocks, and we got a lot of things hashed out and planned and outlined to get me back on track.

I left the office feeling drained but positive.

Then I left my sensei a rambling, nonsensical voicemail that luckily ran out of time so I was able to erase it and re-record a shorter, less rambling one.

And then - I just sort of realized that I couldn't handle the thought of going home.  I was too restless and rattled and spent, but also just pinging with free radical energy.

I called a friend.

I got to her house at about 8:20pm and then we went to dinner.

Want to know what happens when you eat pizza and ice cream and drink root beer after going off of grains and sugar and are totally also completely exhausted?!?

1.  You stay up and out too late.
2.  You finally get home and pass out as if drunk.
3.  You wake up feeling so hungover that you are surprised that you're not in some prison in Mexico.

Then, if you're at all like me, you spend the rest of the day feeling like crap, forget to eat because you feel like puking, blow off school, forget to cook dinner, and stay up way past bedtime making a "woe is me" post even though all of this is your own damn fault.

I would love to say "lesson learned" but let's be honest here...sometimes I'm a bit slow on the uptake when it comes to this kind of thing.

I will say though that I am starting to look at bread like I tend to look at alcohol, which means I view it as a dangerous animal I want/need to stay far far away from. This perception of bread is probably awesome for me on a health scale, but makes the part of me that craves bread as comfort food very sad.

 
And on that happy/sad note.  I'm taking my 100lb head to bed.

-Seph

Abby keeps her word

I told Sephy I'd post for her today, especially considering I missed my own posting day due to crash after 11 hour work day.

Then things went crazycakes, and I lost my mind for a bit along with my post.

So, this is what I've been telling myself for the past few hours.
Yes, sometimes life sucks.  It gets hard and painful and things go wrong and people are upsetting and things break and I fail and I scream and cry and rage.  But I can.  I can because I'm still alive.  I have love and a roof over my head and food in my fridge and a job and that makes me far more fortunate than many people.

I'm alive and have life inside me.  Life that needs sleep.

Sweet dreams, folks.  I love you all for reading my rant.

Persephone admits - Just by posting right now I am off routine.

I was supposed to have this post written and posted an hour ago.

I probably wasn't supposed to accidentally go two days with only eating a few bites of food and then take a hot shower and almost pass out.

I also should probably know that the hours I spend reading about healthy yummy food is not actually a substitute for eating the healthy yummy food.

My subconcious needs to know that on Monday, my GPS is not going to become sentient and argue with me, nor will giant storms and trees hit by lightning and improbable geographical distances keep me from my much needed appointment.  (I hope.)

And the rest of me needs to get off this computer and get ready for bed so that I have a fighting chance of getting up on time tomorrow.

Disjointed post for the win?

Not likely.

-Seph

Abby - A Day Late, a Topic Short

Or:  The Magic of Makeup

I know, that sounds totally crazycakes.  However, according to the Flylady, one should always "get dressed to shoes."  Basically, the concept is that if you always get completely dressed, even putting on shoes, even if you're not going anywhere, you'll be ready for anything.  You act differently when you have clothes and shoes on.  Obviously the Flylady site is targeted at stay at home moms, but this baby step still applied to me.  You see, I don't wear makeup.  I don't feel like I really need it, and I prefer to sleep in that extra 15 minutes (because yes, it takes me that long to get it right.)  Unfortunately, getting all the way dressed was my Baby Step for Monday.

Let me back up a bit.  On Saturday, I was completely useless, unfocused, and at work.  It nearly brought me to tears, I was just that frustrated.  In desperation, I put on makeup on Monday.  Lo and behold, I was productive!  I tried again Tuesday.  Still productive!  Then again today and yes, productive once again!  It's most likely that in my morning preparations the act of putting on makeup is a psychological focusing of my mojo.  (technical term)  I prefer to imagine that the makeup is magical.  It is sparkly, after all.  Also, I'd rather not over think it, in case that makes it stop working.

Tomorrow, I wear makeup.  

In preggers news, I am now 9 weeks along and Zoidberg has graduated from embryo to fetus.  Zoids is a whopping one inch long and growing organs and muscles.  I've never felt so tired in my life.  I have literally fallen asleep sitting up.  (That's why I didn't post yesterday, actually.  I was snoring.)  

Speaking of which, I've a few things yet to do before I can sleep tonight, so I shall bid you all good night.

Persephone Discusses the Seduction of Free Time

In the 15 months I've been living by myself, I've learned a few things.  Some of them are more visibly useful, like learning how to cook - while others are a little more subtle.

It turns out that I am completely incapable of handling "downtime".  Well, I can handle it in small, measured doses, but not if I have a lot of it all at once.

I went from being "off book but productive", to just "off book" to, "off book with my head firmly up my ass".

School started again this past week, and I didn't even have schedules written for the first week because I had social engagements and appointments peppered all over the place. 

I've already scheduled my first final for April 22, so I knew I needed to get back on track.

Last night I did what I was supposed to do, I wrote out my schedules for the week.  I also made some "global" scheduling decisions so that my weeks are more similar from week to week, more routine oriented and less individualized.

Still, I went to bed last night feeling discouraged.  I couldn't even remember the last time I woke up on time, let alone went through my morning and evening routines.

I didn't sleep well.  I haven't been sleeping well, mostly due to crazy intense nightmares.

The alarm went off this morning, and I turned it off like I've done for the past few months, and almost rolled over and went back to sleep until the second round of alarms went off, also just like I've done for the past several months.  After that, I have been snoozing for an hour or more, barely making it to work on time,  let alone getting up on time on the weekends to be productive.

Lest I digress farther, let's go back to this morning.  The first alarm went off.  I turned it off.  I started to close my eyes, already resigned to another failed morning.

But...I didn't close my eyes. I grabbed my Nook, and read for the 15 minutes between the two sets of alarms.  (This is the first part of my morning routine.)

I got up at the second set of alarms.

I went through my routines.  I had breakfast.  I got through both of my scheduled school blocks.  I cleaned my kitchen.  I set up my food processor.  I made dinner.  I am writing my scheduled blog post.  At 9:15pm I will set myself up for the morning, and then I will spend my last hour reading, which is the last part of my evening routine.

Today was a successful day.

Tomorrow I have the chance to be successful too.

When I am scheduled so rigidly, work and school and my other school and bowling and tennis lessons and cooking and reading - I start longing for free time.  When I hear the siren song of said free time, I succumb to it, only to realize that it's not beneficial to me. 

Maybe someday I can strike a balance between being overly rigid and freefalling into no schedules at all, but for now, I realize that I more structure I give myself, the better I feel overall, and the more I succeed.

And that folks, is all I have to say on this tonight.

-Seph

Abby finally tries the Flylady

The first time I saw the word "Flylady" was on my friend's refrigerator about 5 or 6 years ago.  I don't remember which quote it was, but I do remember my friend talking about how awesome the Flylady's website was and it changed her life.

So, of course I didn't even look into it.  Picturing a buxom housefly in a blonde wig didn't inspire confidence.  My imagination sometimes works against me.

Off and on through the years I kept hearing about this Flylady and her awesome plan that changed people's lives.

Earlier today in an email from a friend of mine, I received some links to information specifically for pregnant women with ADHD.  Flylady was there, changing people's lives again.  I signed up.
I discovered FLY is an acronym for Finally Loving Yourself.  Nothing to do with insects.  Her site is for people suffering from CHAOS.  Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome.  That is so totally my house.

I like that us "Flybabies" (snort, Inorite, but still) start out with baby steps.  After all, our house didn't get this jacked up in one day, I can't possibly fix it in one day.  Tim is on board too, which is exciting.

Baby step one:  Shine my sink.  Done!  Feels pretty good, Flylady.  Yes it does.

Anyone care to join me?  It's free, just how I like it.

Abby's Gardening Glee

Tim and I bought a soil tester today.  We also checked out our local gardening store, and they have heirloom tomatoes!  So excited.  For those who don't know, heirloom plants are open-pollinating plants.  Commercially grown produce has to have certain characteristics in order to be successfully grown large scale and shipped all around the world without being damaged or going bad.  Many of those types have been genetically modified or artificially hybridized in some way.  Being hybrids, their seeds don't "breed true" very well.  so, you can't harvest seeds from your tomato plants and plant them successfully the next growing season, which is something I've been wanting to try.
Heirloom seeds are all the ones from smaller farms that have pollinated naturally and survived through natural selection.  These seeds used to be passed down through generations, but have become popular enough in the past few years to be more commonly found.  Seed Savers Exchange is a site I've been looking at recently.  The most exciting part of heirloom seeds for me is that they're all kinds of vegetables with odd characteristics and unique flavors that I've never had before.  For instance!

Cherokee popcorn

Pretzel beans

And who wouldn't want these pumpkins?!

First, however, we must prepare the soil.  As it was previously a perennial Zen garden, I think we'll have quite a bit of work before the soil is ideal for vegetables.  First we have to kill off all the weeds and grass that have overgrown the area.  Then, we find out what kind of soil is there.  According to The Harvest Gardener, the ideal soil for a vegetable garden is silt.  Most soils are a mixture of sand, clay, and silt.  The book calls this type of soil loam.   There are a couple tests I can do to find out soil composition (that doesn't involve calling in an expert.) I could fill a jar with water and drop some soil into it and watch how it settles.  Or, I could squeeze a handful of soil and see if it sticks together.  If so, it's mostly clay.  I think I'll try both.  After that, it's time to test the acidity with the soil tester.  Gardening is a bit more complex than I remember growing up.

In other news, Zoidberg is still doing well.  I just bought my first pair of maternity pants today.  I also got a comfy shirt for work.  I'm getting back into the swing of my pre-medication coping mechanism of making everything in my life into lists.  Tim just downloaded the Evernote app onto my phone.  He created a shared account for us.  It's a program we now have on all of our devices.  So far I really like it.  

Goodnight, folks.

Abby says - Thank goodness for first aid training

There I was, sitting at the netbook with these two books and getting ready to post about soil preparation and what happens during the 8th week of pregnancy (here's a hint:  nausea and being gassy cover just about all of it)

when my dear husband hands me this ball of soft fuzzeh kitteh

This is Ernie.  He gets into ALL the trouble.

I am to hold Ernie while Tim fixes the screen above the kitchen sink.  If not, Ernie will attempt to escape, and then be eaten by the feral kittehs in the alley.  For reals.

I have bad timing.

Me:  Can I let him go now?  He is squirmy.
Tim:  Yes, I got it.  Oh no wait I don't.
Me:  Too late, he escaped.  One sec, I'll grab hi-
Tim:  *Loud yelling, cursing, manly sounds of pain*
Ernie:  *screaming cat noises.  These are the worst ever.*

Turns out, Ernie was way faster than I.  As he almost got out the window, Tim grabbed him and the window shut on Ernie's paw.  Ernie was terrified and in pain and commenced to bite the everloving crap out of Tim's hands.  Blood was everywhere.

After a zillion apologies, good first aid training (thank you Girl Scouts), and lots of kitty treats, both husband and cat are doing fine.

My boys are survivors!

We'll call the doctor in the morning to see if he recommends antibiotics for Tim.  We're keeping an eye on Ernie, and so far he's not limping.  We'll call the vet tomorrow for their recommendation as well.

So, tomorrow (for really reals!) I'll be posting about preparing soil for our garden and the weird but true stuff going on in my god pod.

Goodnight, folks.


P.S.  The entire time I'm trying to get Tim to sit down and apply pressure to his bandage, he's trying to find Ernie to make sure he's alright first.  DAW!

Persephone's a little frustrated

Those of you who know me personally know that April Fool's Day is my least favorite day of the year, but I have to admit this totally cracked me up.

In other news, I was supposed to start my second semester today but my classes haven't been loaded yet, which means I lose an entire weekend study day.

That combined with just generally feeling glitchy the past couple of weeks has me a little cranky today.

I still need to write my schedules for the week, but I am feeling under-motivated.

/whiny post