Frustration fills the air when I feel a lack of hands to help. The third floor of our home stifles you, as heat rises, thick like clam chowder. No matter how much one works another task hangs around. An unpaid bill, an unkempt room, or dirty laundry, if I wanted to write about it all, I would barely make it out before nightfall. But like these thoughts, here and now is about as good a place to start as any.
Maybe, I should try that one approach I picked up in commercial real estate. A man I could not name without scanning a professional network or business card once told us, a both of fresh-faced interns, work early and often. Did he start? The humidity of frustration probably comes from the fact I start late and rarely. Take my rooms, for example. A late night chasing pyrrhic victories in games led to a late morning, or afternoon rather. A date to make with an old college buddy aside, the day began long before I got out of bed. My greeting this afternoon? Temperatures closer to 100 degrees than I'd like, as my clothes find greener pastures on chairs, hampers, my bed and the floor.
For a boy who wants so much. he's got a lot, one might say. Those observant folk would hit the mark. This stuff has got to go. Not just clutter, but altogether I tote too many threads I no longer sport. Plastic bins with a broken lids, stuffed with linens and graphic tees line my closet, along with old mementos, empty packaging and bags of all types of materials, the living space I occupy begs for a makeover. So it's late, but I came to this often; I will donate everything.*
Funnily enough, the fraction of apparel I rock most makes up very little of my entire wardrobe. The rest of the bunch includes items that smell of age. Dour, faded sweaters and cargoes show I have not updated these style in years, but my phone requires one almost biweekly. One responsibility that silently joins your agenda must be clothing shopping. I only purchase the occasional graphic tee, and the truth eyes me was I pull out drawers. I shiver at the thought I may have 100 tops but less bottoms than one can count on their two hands. The balance in this place more than that tower in Pisa. Cleaning out my closet may not cool things off up here, but it might clear a path to peace.
*almost everything.
Deadheading went well today. I watered and weeded as well. I plan to rise early to tend to them, but I have not named the roses yet. Suggestions?