Got Change?

Have you ever wondered how many hours of grilling time you get out of a propane tank? I can tell you the answer: a little over 12, because that's how long my grill was on the other day. Off to Menards for a tank exchange! Fortunately, there was a $2.00 rebate. I dutifully collected the rebate slip, and placed it in my wallet alongside the receipt. Two bucks ain't much, but every little bit helps, right? As I drove away, though, I said to myself, "who are you kidding? You're not going to send that in. It's going to end up in the rebate graveyard like all the rest." I'm one of those guys that just never seems to be able to grab an evelope, copy down the right information, track down the receipt, find a 39 cent stamp, and actually get a rebate like that in the mail.

Let's face it: I'm a procrastinator extraordinaire, and unorganized to boot. My house is the kingdom of clutter. My car? Those of you who've seen it, know it's where angels fear to tread. You think YOUR car is cluttered? Well, have you ever gotten off a ticket because your car was a disaster? Yup--that's happened to me. Twice. (Try my theory on getting off of tickets sometime: look as rednecky pathetic as possible.)

Part of the reason I teach lessons is that on a weekly basis, it forces me to clean my house. In the interim, I stand in constant fear of drive-bys, and god forbid the neighbor should come over and ask to borrow a cup of flour. Most of the time, I'd leave them standing in a torrential downpour while I found the flour, if it came to it. That'd teach 'em!

Good luck finding a tool in the garage. A true sign of a disorganized workspace is having to buy a tool again that you already know you have. And the basement? Let's just say I've put off having workman come over because of potential liability problems.

What gives? That's the question I was asking myself the other day. Why the heck can't I seem to take charge of my life? And why is it that others are so darn ORGANIZED? What makes them the little Dewey decimal fiends that they are? What gene cell is responsible for making people wash their windows twice a year? What causes people to organize their receipts, instead of just tossing them in Ziploc bags to be rifled through come tax time? Who are these people that actually return library books in a timely manner?

I'm 36, and I basically feel like I stumble through life. The one thing you can count on: I smell good, and have clean clothes. That's about the extent of my daily reliability. Oh, and I brush my teeth.

Change is hard...very hard. I need to find ways to conquer these obstacles, that for some reason are hard as hell for me to change. I go through spurts where I try to change my ways--I get some organizational tools, read books on the subject, and I find that there's a little progress, though it never seems to take.

In one of those spurts not too long ago, I finally framed a piece of art I'd been meaning to frame for about four years. That felt good. Today, I did the final coat of paint on my dining room ceiling. (The first coats went up about three months ago.) That felt good too. Oh, here's a biggie: the pop bottles were taken back tonight. Earlier this year, I put some shelves up in the pantry closet, something I'd been meaning to do since I moved in. Everytime I do these sorts of things, I feel great, but it's as if I have to break down the walls of Jericho to just get the simplest task completed. I really don't understand why that is, and when I contemplate all that I need to complete this summer, I get a little overwhelmed.

I've given myself a few rough deadlines for this summer. I realize that if I don't map out my summer, fall will be here before I know it, and none of these things will be accomplished. I'm planning on going up north for a couple of days next week. It's going to be a retreat of sorts for me, and I'm really going to contemplate all of these things. I realize that this lack of organization is the biggest obstacle I face to leading a less stressful life. Clutter equals stress. I need to change, or else I'll go crazy. Let alone any future wife I might have.

I better stop now and go see if the grill's turned off.