People tend to think that because I am small and cute, it follows that I am stupid. By this I do not mean that these people think I'm not smart; it is a complicated distinction. I mean that people seem to feel that they are free to speak to me in a totally condescending manner.
Um, no. That is not acceptable.
If you are reading this, it is almost certain that I am not talking about you. Sure, maybe once you said something that got my panties in a twist, but then I realized that having my panties in a twist creates a chaffing sensation down there, and I'd rather not deal with that, so I got over it. In short, don't worry. I'm talking about people you don't know. Like every boss I have ever had. And not direct superiors, either - I'm talking about the idiots who own the companies I've worked for; I've had some really terrific managers.
A little about me: I am a disorganized wreck. Stop laughing, that's rude! You, get back on your chair, you klutz! And YOU, you will NOT be getting a spanking when you get home, you mean mean man, you will be sent to your room to think about how you made me feel. When I've had office jobs, I have been totally organized, whether it looked like it or not (those post-it notes all over my desk were in order, so lay off). But at home, I am hopeless. The only room that's organized is the kitchen, and that is only true if you don't look in the pantry (I find everything using my sense of touch, and shut up, it works). Well, I guess the bathroom is kind of organized, but it probably wouldn't be if I could move the "furniture."
I try, but we have a lot of stuff in a small apartment. We've gotten rid of a lot of the stuff, and will probably get rid of more (Goodwill should love us at this point, and maybe show the love by calling themselves Goodwillandannika) but I am overwhelmed by piles of papers, and everybody knows that you just can't get rid of papers - there might be something important in that pile of old bills and printed out emails from five years ago! No, really. And I mean it - stop laughing. A few months ago I bought a four drawer filing cabinet. You'd think this would be sufficient, but I threw all the piles in there without sorting through them first. It's not my fault, I was in a hurry. And of course, there are more piles. I don't know where they come from. Possibly outer space. Add on to this that I have boxes and boxes of what might be office supplies but may in fact just be old computer cables that go to god knows what components that I don't even have anymore, and I have the world's worst office. And this is bad, because I really am starting to think seriously about starting a home business (more on that later). I was going to mention just how many books we own, but at the last second I talked myself out of taking a few hours to count them. Later I might count one shelf on each bookshelf and come up with an approximation, though, because I am really very curious. I think the count was about a thousand when we lived in Hillsdale, which was five years ago, but I don't know how much it's actually gone up because we both have some books stored at our parents' houses, and Will has a bunch at work.
As I said, though, I am trying. In addition to getting rid of stuff, I am trying to eliminate clutter (if not actual volume of stuff) by actually, you know, putting it away. In order for this to be possible, I have had to invent places for things to go. Alas, the only way I could think of to do this was to bring in more stuff, in the form of plastic drawered units from Target. If you have been to our house, it is the exact type of unit that Will keeps his action figures in. I bought three for the office. I actually wanted five (what? They're small) but three was two more than I could fit in the shopping cart, so I think you should just be impressed that I left the store with only the wrapping paper left at the check-out (they replaced it for me the next day). Oh, and I need at least one for my sewing stuff and yarn. Why do I have yarn? I cannot knit and barely know how to crochet and the last project I started is still sitting in a basket in our bedroom and that was going to be a Christmas gift last year. But I am under the impression that if I organize my things I will start using them, and if this isn't true I don't think you should be the one to tell me.
At this point you must be wondering (if you haven't forgotten) why I started out this entry by complaining about people treating me like I am stupid. Maybe you think that I am taking the long way to admitting that they are actually right. Well, you'd be wrong! They are scumbags.
I had heard about FlyLady from a few different people, so I decided to check out her website. I went in expecting to be annoyed (based on one of the people I'd heard her name from) and she didn't disappoint. Her #1 instruction is that her readers dress themselves "to the shoes" every day. Now, I understand her reasoning behind this instruction, but I wear shoes many days and trust me - they do not make me any more productive than slippers or even bare feet do! I'm sorry, but shoes (in the house) are for when your feet are cold and you can't find your slippers. I am not entirely anti-FlyLady. I like her "advice" (read: order) that we clean and shine our sinks daily. But where is the useful advice? I have to join the mailing list for her daily reminder emails. Well, I am sorry, but I do not think the best way to eliminate clutter is to voluntarily receive 10-15 emails every day bossing me around. In fact, that sounds exactly like clutter. Plus, one of my goals is to spend less time at my computer, and I can't really do that if FlyBitch is sending me condescending notes every five seconds.
A few tips to avoid pissing me off (incomplete list):
- Don't talk down to me.
- Make suggestions, not demands, and only when I ask for them.
- To be more specific: no unsolicited advice, unless it is in the form of a recipe.
- It is OK for me to say that I am incapable of keeping my house clean. It is not OK for you to even so much as insinuate it.
- Don't talk down to me.