My Name Is Pollyanna And I Am A Disposaholic

My mantra became “Am I willing to carry this to the next moving truck?”

Advertisements

Hi, my name is Pollyanna and I am a disposaholic.

Since I was in my 20’s I’ve moved house roughly every 18-24 months and I reached a state of mind where if I was considering buying a new item I would stop and think “Am I Willing To Carry This To The Next Moving Truck Again?” and “Have I Got Spare Money To Buy This?”.  If the answer was yes, I bought the item but most frequently the answer was no, this is not something that I feel passionately needs to be in my life, it is identified prior to purchase as clutter or a financial burden and has no place in the Whyte House.

I prefer to have very few possessions.  The fewer the better.  It’s a little bit trauma based but I pretend it is a lifestyle choice!  I prefer to have exactly what I need and be able to lay my hands upon it.  I am not a minimalist and like a home to be cozy but everything needs to be useful.

I like to know that everything I own is paid for, that there are no repayments due this month or for 60 months at a reasonable APR.  We don’t have fancy things, my car is 7 years old but new to me and I have a £60 per month payment interest free which is doing my head in because it is the only non-bill bill our house is carrying.

At present I have two sock drawers and that is distracting me from peace of mind, two is too many.  Sock drawers are having an effect on my peace of mind!  That is ridiculous.

I prefer to have very little artwork on the wall because it clutters my thoughts but I really love seeing what other people do to beautify their home.

This weekend I gathered all my gumption and tackled something over which I have a little phobia – paperwork.

I gathered all the post and paperwork from around the house, and was able to dispose of a bin bag of empty envelopes and circulars.  It’s only been 2-3 months since the last time I undertook the same activity.

It had felt like no matter where I turned my head there was Post and paperwork which needed my attention, there was no brain-break from bills because they had been in every line of sight.  But no more.  At least not for a few weeks anyway.

I have some rebates to claim and I have managed to prove that I cancelled a rolling contract in May but the charge was still coming out of my account in October for a portable Wi-Fi hub from EE, how cheeky!  But the service provider was great about it and a refund will be in my account within a week.

I found cheques!  I didn’t realise they had been sent to me for previous overpayments – they were sitting in unopened envelopes which had looked like more bills.

I gathered together pieces of correspondence I need to keep but don’t want to see again. I put them in a series of A4 envelopes without windows so that I don’t have to see those letter headed pages from solicitors again but they are to hand should the need arise at a later date.

There were so many other bits that are now in their rightful place that I can’t even begin to adequately convey the peace of mind and lightening of responsibilities this activity has blessed me with.

We all have coping strategies, mine is to blitz clutter and paperwork and to keep an appointment diary, on paper, in my handbag.

K.I.S.S.

Keep It Simple, Sweetheart!

The less stuff I have, the less I have to move, tidy, or maintain.  It’s a recipe for success.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you knew, what would you do?

What would you do differently if you had a confidence it’d all be ok in the end?

If you knew it would all work out, what would you do?  What different decisions would you make if you knew that even though life is sometimes difficult, it’d all work out to your benefit?  What would you do differently?  There is no promise of your decision being easy or pain free, life is often messy and difficult, there is no promise that other people would forget, but how would things differ if you knew you would be ok at the end of it all?  How would your life look if you knew that all these experiences would benefit you and be for your good?  Another question: how many times have things worked out ok so far?  How different is your life from any original thought and how much have you learned because of your experiences thus far?

She Grew Up

School is so much more than Maths and English.

Big changes, leaps and bounds, in the Casa Blanca.  They Whyte House is abuzz with change.  We can barely utter a sentence without change occurring at the moment.  The girl grew up.  GCSE exam results were returned to the students this last week, choices were made regarding future educational establishments, interviews were held, shuffle up days are happening right now as we speak.

The kid did good with her results.  My first inkling that the kid did good was when I took her in the car to collect her results from school and waited in the car park while she went in.  A few minutes later I heard a shriek of joy from someone running across the yard brandishing a manila envelope screaming over and over “A-Star in English” which was improbable because, you know, dyslexia.  The young lady then stopped in her tracks to hug the school chaplain who just arrived and say thank you for her help, before sprinting again to get back to me.  Her school has a chaplain as it is a Church of England school.  They have their own chapel too.  It’s kind of nifty.

The rest of the results were great too, a good spread of great grades and everything she needed to get in to some of her preferred options.

Just as important as grades, she ended up enjoying the school experience.  She ended up with a wide and diverse group of friends.  She ended up attending parties and going into town to meet up for lunches or shopping, she ended up sleeping over and having sleep overs and parties.

This was a medical improbability.  This was a medical unlikelihood.

She has worked flipping hard to get to understand people and what values they hold and how they’re likely to respond in any given circumstance.  She’s worked hard to be a woman of her word that people could count on to be honest and kind but sure of herself.  She ended up working hard to comply with school expectations upon her with their implied requirements and shifting priorities and minor injustices which are normal occurrences in society.  It took it’s toll on her, it was taxing, demanding and relentless but she continued working hard.

This experience was a firm foundation upon which to build a happy and successful adulthood.  She leaves this school to attend the rival school in the next town over for the next two years.  It is with a little pathos that she forsakes spending hours a day with the people she has become accustomed to and who she loves.  But this experience has proven to be a firm foundation.  She’s learned how to socialise into a group and how to let her quirkiness and quick mind shine as a beneficial talent.

I don’t think I could have achieved what she has achieved socially, I don’t think I could have achieved what she achieved academically while concentrating on social skills.  I am in awe of her, but don’t tell her because she gets a little big headed sometimes!

Here’s to the future, and what a magnificent future it is shaping up to be.

Wasted Saturday

A wasted Saturday is a rare and glorious gift to ourself.

It seems that I am good in company at the moment, feeling genuinely cheerful and happy to be in social situations just chatting or dancing or listening to buddies, but am plunging in to worry and anxiety when alone when there is nowhere else to run from myself.  Feeling emotionally breathless is absolutely rubbish and I recommend it to nobody at all, not even my worst enemies.  So, Saturday my daughter and I took a day off of everything, absolutely everything.

When I’d awoken before dawn I realised that I could afford to get a bad day out of my system as I wasn’t required to be anywhere particular this weekend apart from Sunday Services.  I had a two A4 page of Honey-Do’s I’d written for myself, each line being a tiresome project which needed completing in the house preferably before winter falls. And I couldn’t face it.  I was close to tears, on a Saturday! What a waste of tears.  I determined I was not going to cry on my own time!  Instead, I was going to be still.  I was going to ignore the day as long as I could.

My teen padded in to my untidy room around midday and flopped on the bed.  We conspired together that we deserved a complete day off having run ourselves ragged for years.  It was exciting to be in this together.  We chatted a while about books we were reading on Audio because we’re both a little dyslexic and I’d rather listen to a book than struggle with text and so would she.  We’re both perfectly capable of reading but sometimes for recreation we just have someone read the darned book to us.  It feels like cheating but what is the point of technology if you can’t use it to enhance your experience of literature and make available that which you wouldn’t have tackled without the electronic intercedent.

After a while she padded off again and I settled in for more breathing.  Breathing is something I’ve taken for granted all these years but of late my glorious mind keeps trying to trick me that there is insufficient oxygen in the atmosphere.  Stupid glorious mind…

So, I lay there in my unmade bed and breathed.  Then when I’d done that for an hour or so I took a nap, then listened to a show and then breathed again.

I was roused only by the offspring’s enquiry as to what was for dinner.  Without said offspring I would gladly have spent all the hours until the next day in my room, but I’m contracted to care for the kid so up we got and a dinner of beef burgers and pasta was rustled.  Then, relocated to the living room, I sat and breathed some more until I realised it was now 2am and I really should go to my untidy room to breathe.  Brushed my teeth and toddled off to my chamber for some more breathing.

Is it me, or did somebody really turn down the oxygen supply in the atmosphere?  Asking for a friend.

My First LDS Singles Event

A bumpy re-entry to the singles world but an adventure none the less.

So, now that I am officially single again I could start going to the Mormon singles events… wasn’t allowed before because it would have been a married woman in the dating scene which is FORBIDDEN (yep, capital letters).

I went to a Singles event and bumped in to a female acquaintance from when we were teens.  She said “I recognised you from your smile”, how nice is that?!  We became acquainted again, it was lovely having someone to chat with and sit with, she is very lovely.  She has the etiquette of an angel and I was so pleased she was there.

HOWEVER, single people sometimes become gross.  Gender non specific.  The men and the women!  They may have spent too much time by themselves to worry about being polite and then it becomes a hard habit to break when suddenly in company.

They can at the dinner table and when chatting be burpy, sniffy, snorty, snargly froggy sniffs, belchy, cannot eat food in polite company-y without slumping, shovelling, lip smacking, mouth open eating and scooping.

If I ever get like that, please groupon me an etiquette class! Breathing and being human is fine, clearing your throat is fine, having the snuffles is fine, just some of these folks have been in their own company far too long and forgotten how to sit in polite or impolite company!  It was an eye opener.  I was shocked.  I have a relaxed etiquette style and wasn’t expecting silver service but I was shocked.

That being said, next time I might skip the lunch and go straight for the fireside as I learned much and enjoyed getting to know my fellow in the same boat shipmates.  I wouldn’t let table etiquette put me off attending again but next time I will feel more prepared for what I may encounter.  Wish me luck!

Divorce, why not just Single?

Why on forms for absolutely anything do I have to keep saying divorced instead of single (again)?

Phew, the Decree Absolute arrived which to those who haven’t had this experience means that the divorce is finalised.  I am now a single lady again.  I think I’ll set up kissing booths at all the town shows locally, I’ll perhaps dance on a table or two, and/or perhaps settle back and read a book.  I wish I could rest for a while but the kid was supposed to mow the lawn each week and it hasn’t been done for a month so I ended up mowing that on top of all the other jobs around the house.  The new marital status is a tad discombobulating but satisfying none the less.  I’m going to let this new status sink in for a while.

What I don’t understand is why on forms for quotes for car, house, life insurance or any form in general, there is a section where it asks your name and then asks your matrimonial status, are you married, cohabiting, separated, divorced, single.

Do I for the rest of my life have to keep ticking divorced?  Why not single?  What difference does it make to my risk factors and driving history?  What difference does it make to my life insurance?  Why do I have to keep being reminded of all that went on each time I fill in a form?  How does it affect premiums?  How does it validate or invalidate the information provided?  What stinking difference does it make?  If you have any insight into this matter, please share.

 

Somewhere between here and infinity

If all your peace of mind is gone, and is replaced by hypothetical money worries, you need to speak with your friends.

Don’t you love friends who talk you down from the emotional ledge?  (The correct answer is yes, yes we do love those friends).  I’ve been using much of my spare time to ponder next steps now that we are in the privileged position of being in credit for the first time in almost ever, and for the first time since becoming a fully fledged adult taking care of adult responsibilities.  For clarity, it’s not much in credit but there is a plus sign not minus on the ol’ bank account and that’s a good enough start for me.

When I was working toward bringing credit agreements down to a zero balance, there was a definite goal, a specific figure had to be reached for that to be successful, there was a stopping point.  While the task was immensely difficult, the actual ability to quantify the required outcome was simple.  Keep paying for stuff until there is no more to pay.  Reducing to a nought.  Simple to keep straight, eh.  If there was more than a nought on the balance of the credit agreement, I wasn’t there yet and had to keep going.  Simple.

What has had me vexed is the next step.  The next baby step.  It has kept my mind occupied while I pondered, cogitated, and strategized.

Now that the little number is increasing there is no ceiling, no natural end goal.  Numbers go up to infinity plus one as any clued up 8 year old will tell you.  It vexes me because there is no way to know how much is enough.  How much will we need to have set aside to get by in the next month, year, few years, decade, until retirement or until the end of my natural life.  There is no figure.  It will always be too little.  It will always be more than we had.

With no natural end result my mind has been in a spin.  It has in actuality been quite a little more difficult than dealing with paying down credit.  At least if we had almost nothing we knew what we could do with our little porridge pot.  At least if the money ran out we knew or at least hoped that we had food storage and petrol in the car and the bills were paid.  Although awfully difficult, there were specifics and I am a lady who loves specifics.  I need to know the end from the beginning and if I don’t then all merry emotional hell breaks loose.  Uncertainty does not sit well with me, never has, likely never will.

So, all merry emotional hell has been breaking loose as a consequence of feeling somewhat untethered.  Which is ridiculous.  How can success make a person uneasy?  It’s daft.  I felt like a fool.  I’d met a target, a stretch target as we like to say at work, and yet I was managing feelings larger than before I started.

Anyway, with a sky’s the limit, no end in sight, don’t know how much is enough mind-set I wasn’t feeling very settled.  Until in walks a buddy called Sinead, who herself was hot on the heels of a friend called Mel.

When I was in a tailspin and worrying out loud “what if the roof falls off?”, Mel had quizzically looked at me and said “you have house insurance”.  I slapped my forehead, of course I have insurance, of course if there is a disaster at the home not of my doing and that I cannot fix myself I can rest well knowing we are covered.  It soothed my troubled heart.  That worked for a few days.

Then I went on to fretting on the topic of “how much is enough to have set aside and when do I need to have it by?” because bills have due dates, don’t you know!  I was and still am in a due date mentality.

After confiding in Sinead in the corridor at Church between classes (sorry, missus!) who had only congratulated us on getting to where we were, she came up with the plan of having an account with a specific goal or figure in mind, like £500 for example, and when that is achieved, that is full.  I’ll have done it, it would be completed.  Then open another goal with a slightly increased figure in mind, work toward that and when that reaches the pre-determined figure, I’ve succeeded in that too, and it is done.  Then do it again and so on.  Effectively, we cannot determine the future but we can set goals and work toward them and tick them off when they are completed.  Is this making any sense?  Add a finite factor to an infinite problem.

It had the immediate impact of settling my troubled heart.  How simple.  How insightful of her to realise I wasn’t faux-probleming and that this really was a big deal to my family.  To both these ladies I doff my hat and say thank you in writing as well as in person.  Complex worries had simple solutions, these ladies comprehended the worries and helped by suggesting ways through.  How beautifully hearted of them.  Aren’t they lovely?

I was told a few years ago that someone perceived me to be a Solution Oriented Optimist.  Someone who could see the genuine problem, review, decide, act and stay positive when possible and even stay positive when highly improbable but never deluded.  Their opinion of my was a surprise because I knew what went round in my head at pace to get to the Solution they saw in front of them.  I think this experience over the past couple of weeks has fallen in to this category, without my friends I couldn’t see the solution.  They helped me peep through the fog of worry.  A fog which was of my own making but real to me none the less.  A solution has been formatted and we are making great headway.  Thanks for listening while I got this out of my head and on to electronic paper so to speak.