That is the sound of my frustration. Holy shit. Holy shit. HOLY SHIT.
It started out innocently enough. I needed to clean my room in a very bad way. I have a terrible habit of not putting my laundry away and just leave it in the baskets and when I need something, I end up tossing the clean clothes around my room where they get caked with dog hair. Gross. I look at the piles on the ground, go “yeah, I should put that away,” and then weeks go by, the piles still remain and each day I look at it and then let it get out of control.
Today, I decided to clean my room and then it just kind of snowballed from there. I began looking around my room at all the unnecessary stuff I have and I just started throwing it all away, getting more frustrated and furious at myself for letting things get this way. I then started looking around the house and all the clutter and crap and I am at the point where I want to burn the house down.
And naturally, I began comparing it to other things in my life, letting other things get out of hand before I say to myself, “hey, you should clean this up.”
For example, I’m not proud to admit this, but I’m behind on my car payment. The company which I financed through has called me every day for several weeks. I would be at work, see the call, and hit “ignore.”
My marriage is another example. The day my ex-husband refused to talk to me and locked himself in our bedroom for an entire day. That should have been it, but I let it go for several more months, letting things around me build up, again, hitting the proverbial “ignore” button.
I am tired of hitting “ignore,” and not just on my phone. On life in general. Good analogy, huh?
I answered the call from my finance company and made a payment. It doesn’t seem that big of a deal, but to me, the fact I answered the fucking phone and spoke to a loan officer was a huge step for me. Knowing that I’m getting back on track with that kind of gave me a sense of pride. Silly, I know, but it did.
Purging my room of all the needless shit is also helping. I have two giant garbage bags full of stuff as a sort of award for that. Not a big deal again, but to me it is.
Filing and ultimately finalizing the divorce will be the next great life purge. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. It will be two years in July. What? Why wait that fucking long? Was I hoping for some sort of miraculous reconciliation? For him to finally realize his life was worthless without me? I have no idea. Probably. Maybe. Whatever the reason, I’m ready to get this taken care of once and for all.
If I think about it, and let’s face it–it’s me, so yes, I’ve been thinking about it–having my roommate Chad move out and leave for California has lit a fire under my fat ass. He took an enormous risk and moved to a new city to start over. Many people I’ve talked to have had split opinions about this: it’s either “good for him!” or “it’s hard to start over when you’re this old.”
Yes, it is hard to start over, but it’s never too late to start over. In my opinion, that’s what prevents so many of us from doing what we want. We’re afraid we’re too old, or we use that as an excuse. That, my friends, is bullshit and you all know it. We become so set in our routines that the idea of change scares us shitless. It’s human nature. No one likes change, but everyone benefits from it in the long run.
Stop hitting the “ignore” button.
Ahh…okay, I’m feeling better now. It’s kind of funny; I was throwing clothes across my room and getting more angry with each article I was tossing, and I said to myself, “Erin, you better write or you’re going to fucking explode.”
Sometimes, I’m pretty damn smart and I’m glad I listened to myself.