We’ve been living in Colorado Springs for just over two weeks now, and it’s already starting to feel like home. Our little 6th grader thoroughly enjoyed her first week of middle school, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how competent and organized the school’s administration and staff have proved to be thus far. They took virtually all of the fear and anxiety out of the first day of middle school for the 6th graders by breaking them into small teams of 10-15 students and assigning an 8th grade mentor to help show them the ropes and make them feel welcome. The mentors are called WEB (Where Everyone Belongs) Kids, and they are some of the brightest, friendliest, and most polite 8th graders I’ve ever met. All this from our second choice school. And a public school at that! Not bad, Colorado Springs. Not bad at all.
Things are going to work out for us here, I think. My husband likes his job. Our daughter loves her school. As for me, I am cautiously optimistic that I’ll find my own brand of personal satisfaction and fulfillment here, too. Just as soon as I finish unpacking boxes and getting our new home in order.
I’m a procrastinator of the highest order. I don’t think I ever fully realized how much I procrastinate when it comes to doing things I don’t particularly enjoy, but my husband pointed it out to me early into our marriage. It took me forever to unpack and set up our new apartment when he and I merged two separate households into a single space. The thing that finally motivated me to get our house in order was the fact that my husband’s grandmother would be staying with us over the holidays. The apartment was pretty much a disaster until the day she was scheduled to arrive, and then I pulled it all together. My husband was stunned when he walked in the door that day after work. The place was barely recognizable as the same apartment he’d left that morning.
At the time, many of my things were still contained in a storage locker 150 miles away. Shortly after Grandma returned home to California, I emptied that locker and lugged dozens more boxes to our apartment where they’ve sat, largely untouched, in a large pile in a corner of our bedroom. I’d planned to use our spare bedroom as a staging area to go through those boxes and determine what to keep and what to purge. As fate would have it, however, our spare bedroom became my stepdaughter’s full-time bedroom when she moved in with us in July.
Staging space? Gone. This complicates the process considerably because I’ve no choice but to make a colossal mess of our living space while I rearrange furniture, unpack boxes, merge what I plan to keep into our household, and purge the rest. I’m more motivated to tackle the twenty boxes or so that remain with each passing day, though. The holidays are fast approaching, and we’ll be having more overnight guests again soon. We’re also planning to add another feline member to our family in the near future, and I’m dying to set up a more functional creative space where I can work on jewelry comfortably.
I have a crystal clear vision of what it will all look like when it’s done. My desk will be moved from our main living area to a quiet, brightly lit corner of our bedroom, which is currently occupied by the dreaded mountain of boxes. I can already picture myself working on jewelry in that great light (the best in the apartment) while Rose is curled up on her perch beneath the window, napping in the sun.
Today is a dull gray day. There’s rain in the forecast, and dinner is already simmering in the Crock Pot. I suppose there’s no better time than the present to tackle those boxes.
Life is short. Stop procrastinating, and do what needs to be done to create the time and space to do what you love.