Confessions of a (Paper) Hoarder

Many people say I am my mother made over.  If you look at pictures from our respective childhoods sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.  My Grandmother even used to call me Lynn as a child because I looked so much like her (she now calls me Lynn because she can't remember my name and it seems like as good a name as any, but that's another story of age and dysfunction to be told another time).  And I'll be honest:  my mother was (and is) a knockout.  She was both a beauty queen and valedictorian in high school.  She is smart and witty and charming and a talented writer and musician, and so I am honored when people tell me I remind them of her.  It also seems pretty obvious from both my looks and my chosen professions of writing/music that it is in my DNA to be her clone.

There are some things, however, that I wish Mother Nature had squashed out of our shared genetic material.  My mother is a great many things, but organized she is not.  (Mom, this is not a condemnation or a judgment.  It is a fact.  You know it, I know it, so let's not mince words, okay?  Loveyoumeanit.)  And I have inherited my mother's penchant for holding on to things.  Paper things, mostly:  books, sheet music, letters from loved ones, stationary, comics cut out of the newspaper, medical records, credit card bills, To Do lists, and on and on.  At this point, my house is so cluttered with paper that if I lit too many candles (another love I share with my mother) I may as well call the neighbors to bring marshmallows and hotdogs, because we're about to have raging bonfire over at 411 Crestland.  My house is 1200 square feet of kindling, folks.  No additional wood needed.  [At this point, any who are reading this and are so inclined are invited to make their own private penis jokes.  Go ahead, I'll wait....Finished?  Okay, good.  Let's move on.  Also:  that's what she said.]

All of this clutter, combined with my current stress at both jobs means my anxiety level is higher than Lindsay Lohan's last bar tab (too soon?).  (Also also: why is it I've picked jobs where crunch time for both of them falls within the same 4 week period?  Poor planning, Eden.  Poor, poor planning.)  The clutter and the stress and the anxiety are making it harder and harder to keep the Depression Demon from knocking down the door.  He is, after all, a demanding and persistent master.  So, after a particularly panicked and tear-filled phone call to my (wonderful, loving, beautiful) disorganized Mum about the current state of my abode, I decided to do something serious about it:  I hired a professional organizer.

I know, right?  I didn't even know they were a real thing, either.  Luckily, there is a fabulous woman who goes to the church where Jesus, The Boy Genius, and I work (I mean, I don't think Jesus is on the payroll or anything, but I assume he has something to do with the church. At any rate, they sure do talk about him a lot over there for him NOT to be affiliated...), and she is a professional organizer.  So I sent her a desperate email late Thursday night, begging for her to FIX MY LIFE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, and she calmly replied she would be over on Saturday to help me.

And here is what this wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman (named Deanne, owner of Central Carolina Organizing, LLC, call her now to help you she will change your life!!!!!) taught me:

1.) It's okay to be attached to stuff.  We are sentimental and emotional creatures, and it's nice to have mementos.

2.) Such mementos are okay to keep as long as they have a permanent home AND can be enjoyed regularly, rather than stuffed in some random corner and forgotten about.

3.) Those tax returns that you filed electronically in 2007, but also kept paper copies of everything justincase?  Yeah, you should shred those (just not the 1040 forms; those you keep).

4.) You don't have to do it all on your own.  Recognize your weakness (and your strength!!!), and then ask for help.  We are also social creatures, and are expected to rely on others whose talents are different than ours.  It does, in fact, take a village.

5.) Don't do it all at once.  Just take one stack, one room, one day at a time.  This is a mantra for life, not just purging one's office of paper.

6.) Remember that you have friends who will love you and help you, no matter what you or your house look like.

7.) There's always someone else out there who has it worse off than you.  So stop judging yourself.  (And be grateful that your desk chair may be covered in dirty clothes and five-year-old utility bills, but at least your carpet is not covered in Mystery Animal Dung.)

8.) Completing one task can empower you to do one more.  Or, as Mama Lynn is fond of saying, "Just keep doing the Next Good Thing."

9.) Some of us look at a mess and see a mess.  Others look at a mess and see a puzzle.  This is a good thing.  (See #4)

10.) My house may be disorganized and cluttered, but that doesn't mean that I'm not a good:  daughter, sister, friend, musician, writer, chef/baker, joke teller, marketer of spa-related things, laugher, dancer, dreamer, car-and-shower-singer.  I am all these things.  And a little cluttered and broken and unsure, too.  It's all part of what makes up Eden.  And Eden's a pretty good thing to be.