The Problem of Wealth

I knew I hadn’t posted in awhile, but I didn’t realize just HOW long
it’d been… a thousand pardons to my two loyal readers!

Actually, it’s not just this blog that’s been neglected. In the last
few months, I’ve only worked on my novel twice. They were highly
productive sessions, about two hours each, and I managed to finish
the work. Yippee for me. But I could have done so much more with my
time, and I find myself wondering: just what did I do in May, if I
didn’t do any writing?

Laziness is an awesome excuse, but in reality, I’ve been working on
my house. Home improvement projects, cleaning projects, reduce-reuse- recycle projects, that sort of thing. There’s just so much work to do and I’d rather poke at my eye with a dull pencil than clean, but it’s
gotten out of hand. I keep wondering if all my sci-fi dreams will
come true: the house becomes sentient, shakes off all the grime and
clutter, and lumbers off into the sunset in search of more worthy

My biggest problem is wealth. We’re not rich – maybe middle class
fits us better. Captain Tech (aka “my husband”) makes a good living
as a crime analyst, and we’re spectacularly good at spending that
cash. On stuff. That doesn’t have a place to live in our huge house
that’s already stuffed. So it sits out on dustable surfaces or gets
stacked on the floor or shoved under the bed or crammed into a closet
or hung on the already-full walls… and I look at all this mess and
I don’t want to dust it and I’m tired of tripping over it and it’s
time to get rid of some of it.

I started in the kitchen, since I’m trying to remodel that room.
Contractors are coming in July to replace my countertops. And I
realized that I’d be embarrassed to have strangers see my messy,
cluttered house. So I got rid of extraneous dishes, appliances, and
fancy serving bowls I’ve never used. I scrubbed every surface I could
get to with a rag. I touched up the paint on the walls. I even moved
the refrigerator and cleaned behind it! And it felt so good to look
at my outdated kitchen and be proud that it was clean and well-
organized, even if it was 70’s orange and dark brown. Truly hideous.
But orderly.

I’ve moved on to other rooms, de-cluttering and cleaning, but it’s
going to be a LONG process, and I can’t neglect my writing while I
take on other projects. I’ve got to find a compromise. I’m hoping to
set aside two hours a day for writing (I’ve heard that advice from
someone famous, I’m sure) so that I don’t find myself in this
situation again. Being away from my novels for so long, it’s hard to
get back into them. And my desk is a mess. Every spare inch of
surface space is stacked with books and papers and notes and office
supplies and photos… I know what I must do.

Do any of you struggle with this, or am I in this boat by myself?



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