First in a series
by Richard G. Mills
It's So Nice To Be
A Man about the House
When one is a free-lance writer, not to mention an occasional English
teacher, one tends to collect a lot of papers. At least that's true for
me. And, generally speaking, I'm usually too busy trying to finish a job
when I'm working and trying to find work when the job is finished to really
get around to doing all that sorting and filing I ought to be doing. When
you add to that situation the fact that I'm a bit (to understate the
condition) of a pack rat, as well as a bit (see before) of a
procrastinator, my office in my condo in Chicago finally became difficult
to find.
Oh, you could find it, all right, if we're just talking location: it was
behind the door that led to what most people in the complex called a second
bedroom (or used as a dining room). But if we're talking getting into it,
actually seeing the desk or the table tops (or, for that matter, the
floor), then you couldn't find it.
Now, this is not to say I'm disorganized. I am extremely organized --
in my mind. And I'm even somewhat organized in my surroundings. Generally
speaking, I could tell you just where on the floor was that unpaid electric
bill or that last copy of the chapter I wrote on rocks and gems for that
high school textbook project.
In fact, this very condition of organized disarray tended to perpetuate
the situation. If I actually picked something up to put it someplace more
appropriate than the floor, there was a good chance I'd never be able to
find it again.
Another problem I have is that I never know for sure whether I'll ever
need to find any given "it" again, which leads to not throwing out the
"its" that I'll probably never need. But, as others have often commented
for themselves, as soon as you choose a useless and/or superfluous "it" to
throw away, the next day, that's precisely the "it" you need!
Another problem with having an organized disarray of papers everywhere
is that, when you need something and start sorting your way through the
stacks to find it, piles of papers in the general vicinity of the search
tend to slip away. (This is what resulted in the office floor having
become a surrogate lateral filing cabinet in the first place!)
Finally, the situation of my paper-engulfed office got really out of
hand -- or, perhaps, foot. I could hardly walk without stepping on or
tripping over papers waiting to be filed; I could hardly move without
adding to the no-longer-so organized disarray of my surrogate filing
cabinet. Something had to be done.
Having some money put away and a relatively open work schedule (which
means the same as an actor's "between jobs" euphemism), I decided it was
time To Get Organized. The first step to Getting Organized entailed buying
several filing boxes and putting them together, buying a good supply of
hanging files and manila folders, pulling out of the closet all of the
similar, previously stuffed file boxes, and emptying my three file
cabinets.
Now my organized disarray had spread like a plague through the
second-bedroom doorway into my living room. This is the trouble with
Getting Organized: there's a long period of apparent even more
disorganization. But I persevered.
First, I filled several big moving boxes with related materials: a box
of work papers to file; a box of Condo/bills/checks-related papers; a box
of old phones, wires, speakers, computer parts, and related items (I also
like to tinker!); and so on. Then, I started the long and sometimes
tedious job of sorting through the first box of papers, dividing the
contents of this large box into their respective small, file boxes: SVE,
ATF, McCann, Quarasan, and the like, plus "Miscellaneous" and "Sort and
File."
Actually, all of my small, file boxes had "Sort and File" folders.
(Needless to say, the largest folder in each box was the "Sort and File"
folder!) And the small boxes with the most material in them were
"Miscellaneous" and "Sort and File"! The end result would be, of course,
that, once I had the initial job of Getting Organized done, I would still
have a number of major tasks of Getting Organized within my Gotten
Organized!
Well, to shorten what could be an even longer story, after about two
years of this Getting Organized, it started becoming apparent that I really
didn't have the room to get organized. I was pretty much to the point
where my desk could be found, and table tops could be seen, and -- by
golly, there's brown carpeting on the office floor! (And look how clean
all those papers have kept it!) But now I had boxes all over the place!
My office closet had already been previously filled with boxes of papers
(and of Sort and File stuff), and now I had even more boxes. I needed more
room!
And, come to think of it, after twenty years of city living, it was also
time for this suburban boy to return to the open spaces of suburbia.
People were beginning to get on my nerves. And, even though I worked at
home and rarely went out, living in a condo in one of the most congested
areas of Chicago tends to result in people being everywhere. (Fancy that!)
Yes, it's time to get more room -- both inside and out. Where is there
more inside room? In a house. Where is there more outside room? In
suburbia. (Besides, who can afford a house in the city? -- Not an
open-scheduled free-lance writer, that's for sure!)
Now, the logical thing for someone whose work is in the City is to find
a suburb along a commuter line -- like the Burlington or the Northwestern.
And these, in deed, were the suburbs with which I was familiar. I was
raised in Aurora. I went to college and lived the first few years of my
adult life in Naperville. I substitute taught in Wheaton. I shopped in
Oakbrook, Yorktown, Old Orchard, and Randhurst. I knew the area. Yes,
there's something to be said for commuter lines: they make houses
expensive!
So I started looking south. About the same time, a Realtor in Chicago
took my procrastinating life in hand and said, "You've got to stop Getting
Organized. You have to make a decision. Either you're going to move or
you're not. It's time to put your condo on the market. How about this
weekend?" (Boy, that Gets You Organized in a hurry!)
I finally found a place I liked down here in (how is that spelled)
Bourbonnais and found a buyer who liked my place in Chicago. And all the
details fell into place. (Sounds simple, doesn't it? Well, we'll get into
that some other time!)
With the money they pay for a condo in Chicago, you can buy a house in
Bourbonnais. And I'm thankful for that, because now I am a...
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