Of Channel-locks and Power Bills

 Yesterday turned out better than I'd expected. It started out slow and potentially...well, it may have turned into a pity-party if I'd let it, but there were piles. Stacks of stuff that hadn't been dealt with in months because it just didn't seem important. How many months? At least 6, because that's how many power bill receipts were in it. Among other things. Recipes that were printed out. Bank statements. Hospital instruction booklets from assorted procedures. You know..."I don't want to throw it away but I also don't want to deal with it so I'm going to make a pile" pile on the end of a cabinet. I looked at it, growled, and said NO MORE. 

That Pile was managed. Filed, thrown away, prioritized. Reduced to about 10 pieces of phone calls and consideration. Go me.

And it lead to more....more elimination, more putting away in it's proper place, and another pile of other stuff to be put away where it belongs. Tools mostly. We are both bad about using a tool and just putting in down, with Plans to Put It Back Where It Belongs. Eventually. Eventually is here. I am going to take an hour today and put all those tools away. I know that will lead to another task, then another task. ad infinitum. The elimination is of the disorganization. I'm not Getting Rid of Capt. I'm just...doing things the way I wanted to do them. I had the same issue with Himself. Maybe it's a Man Thing. It certainly seems to, at the very least, be a My Man Thing. "Don't move that tool. If I leave it where I used it the last time, I'll know where to find it the next time." They both said that. And I'm thinking "yeah but...if you put it in the toolbox, not only will you know where it is, I won't have to trip over it for the next 6 weeks." Not that I'm the Benchmark for tidiness....all you have to do is look at my sewing room to know that. But at least I keep the sewing stuff in the sewing room.

Oh don't get me wrong...for months after Himself died, I'd have given all my back teeth to have him leaving tools everywhere, if it meant he were with me. Right now I'd give my back teeth to have Capt dropping his boxers on the floor next to the laundry basket, and leaving channel-locks on the kitchen counter, if it meant we were planning a trip to the beach. It's peculiar the things you miss. Sometimes it's the very things that annoy you when they're alive. Never take anything for granted, y'all. 

I don't see this as a sign of...whatever you want to call it...healing. It's more...Dealing With It. I am controlling something I can control, and letting the stuff I can't, just go on and be whatever it is. Out of my control is out of my control. I can control channel-locks and piles of papers and the dust on the coffee table. And so I am.