September 28, 2004
...just haven't been feeling up to writing, or much else. I guess I just haven't been feeling committed to much of anything lately. Just not wanting to deal, and so I'm feeling kind of stuck. Like I'm just getting by.
I mean, I have been doing stuff. Like I'm in the middle of trying to get my papers organized - color-coded hanging folders, printed labels, a pile of papers to shred. After the initial methodical rush I've reached a mini-plateau and have been dallying too long, reluctant to get to the next step[pe] of going through the remaining boxes of miscellany. Meanwhile, the creeping piles of paper are reappearing like weeds. There are baskets of clothes to wash or fold, floors to sweep, dishes to wash. I just look around me, and I feel exhausted and discouraged before I've even begun.
I don't know why I have this instinct or need to hold onto every little thing, to go out and collect, even when I don't have the space or time to invest. I'm worst with books and music. But I'm weighed down by other belongings too. I envy people who can live so simply, who can shed their physical and mental baggage. My sisters are like this too - probably a sign of something. Our stuff being our identities, a resistance to our inevitable mortalities. Nurturing ourselves through acquiring things we think we need and deserve. (My therapist would be so proud.)
I suppose if I can convince myself that I don't need so much stuff - either holding onto things or acquiring more - then I don't have to be responsible for so much either (storage, maintenance, etc.). Wouldn't that be nice.
My situation just screams "Yard Sale" doesn't it? Or at least Goodwill or Library or Dumpster, given my lack of motivation.