Domestic Geek

One thing I realized while watched Hoarders over the last couple of days is I probably have some form of an anxiety disorder. It hasn't manifested as hoarding (yet), but I can definitely relate to a lot of what those people go through. It would certainly explain a lot of the irrational responses to stress triggers I've had over the years.

One thing I have noticed is that switching to a more natural diet has had a great affect on my mental state. Too much refined sugar definitely affects me negatively. Not eating enough causes me to have breakdowns.

Then there is that pesky perfectionism and claustrophobia. Is it any wonder that sometimes I've been such a mess?

The good news is now that I'm more aware of what my problems are, I'm becoming better equipped to deal with them. Admitting you have a problem is always the first step, right?

I'm watching A&E's Hoarders show on Netflix right now. I've seen many tweets and Facebook posts by friends that watch these shows saying they feel like cleaning after watching. I totally feel that way at the moment. It also disturbs me on another level.

I could easily become on of these people. One of the psychotherapists mentioned that hoarding is hereditary. Both my grandmother and my mother were hoarders. It seems that a lot of these people had a big trigger that started the hoarding. I did start hoarding to some extent after my mother passed. I was always trying to fill the void by buying stuff I know I didn't need. I couldn't let some things go that were obviously crap because they had either belonged to my mother or had some memory attached. I would bring home broken stuff from people's trash that I found while out delivering pizzas. I thought I was being thrifty and saving something from a landfill, but I see now that it was not the case at all. Most recently, I started doing it with yarn. I think I finally snapped out of it and I'm better now and am actually purging stuff, but a major life crisis could easily trigger something again.

First off:




Speaking of holidays, apparently my neighbors can't wait for Christmas. Yes, once again they were busy while I was at work and as I turned onto our street I see that their damned outdoor Christmas decorations are up. I can understand wanting to get the lights on the house while the weather is still warm, but the plastic angels and Santas can wait until after Thanksgiving. Seriously. I want to enjoy Fall and Thanksgiving first, you morons, thankyouverymuch. Sadly, they aren't the only ones. A couple of houses down actually have their lights on. Geez, making me sound like Scrooge here, but one. holiday at. a. time. The season would mean so much more if we'd limit our exposure to it. Same goes for elections. I think campagin season should start 6 weeks before the election. That's it.

That said, tomorrow I'm going to dig out my FALL decorations. Scarecrows, pumpkins and turkeys are all that will decorate this house until December.

As Marcus and I were discussing the amazing amount of junk we've accumulated and what the heck we were going to do with it all, I brought up the fact that we haven't moved in 8 years and haven't done the ritual purging one must do when a move occurs. For the first 10 years of our relationship, we moved every year or two. With each successive move, though, the home got bigger and therefore, less stuff had to go. Also, Marcus probably won't admit to it, but we're both packrats (well, he'd admit that I am one - LOL) The result is we've got TOO. MUCH. STUFF.

We had originally only intended to be here a year or two. Then land got unbelievably expensive. Marcus changed jobs. Then the screen printer I worked at went out of business and then I got laid off my my next job. I realized my time on the job I'm currently at (and only planned to be there a year or two) will hit the 4 year mark next month. It's time for a change.

Since the lot rent shot up yet again, we vowed we will not be here 9 years to see yet another one. Things are starting to fall into place that we're pretty sure we can make this happen. Also, I'm sending out resumes. I'm tired of prepress work and really want to go back into design. I got a lot of great experience that makes me a better designer, for sure. It's time to move out of my comfort zone.

OK, back to purging. When it does come time to make the move, I don't want to be purging and packing.

I've got to face the fact...my body is getting old.

I'm trying to work on a pair of crocheted earrings from the July/August issue of Crochet Today while I watch Lost streaming from Netflix on my PlayStation 3. I'm using a tiny steel size 12 (1mm) hook with crochet thread and I can NOT see the stitches. *sigh* I had to bust out my Ott light with the magnifier on it so I can work on these.

I knew my eyes were getting worse and it was time to go in for an exam and get some new glasses. This reinforced that thought. Oh, to be able to afford laser surgery.

Speaking of Crochet Today, that was the first and only issue I will ever buy. That magazine sucks. The earrings are the only thing in there that I will make. Most of the patterns are stereotypical of what people hate about crochet. Most of this stuff is FUGLY!

OK, gripe over for now. Off to crochet.

Do you ever have the feeling that you life isn't RIGHT? That you've going through the motions of living, but you're really not. That this isn't where you're supposed to be and this isn't what you're supposed to be doing. That's me, for most of my life.

The problem is, I don't know what I want to do or what I'm supposed to be. I just know that now is wrong.

Part of the problem started when I was very small. I was never able to express to people what I wanted to be doing, so I'd do what I was told. Also, when I did know what I wanted to do, I wouldn't stand up for it. One thing I remember in particular was that I wanted to be a Brownie. My friends were Brownies. My mother made me join Bluebirds, instead, because my sister could join, too. She wasn't old enough to join the Brownies. Mom got super-involved in Bluebirds/Camp Fire Girls. It became more about her than what I (or maybe my sister) wanted. I wanted to quit long before I was allowed to do so. I just kept going to keep the peace and it felt then like I do now - just playing along.

I think I got to a point where what I wanted to do didn't matter, so why try to figure it out. I'd just be disappointed. I even took this same mindset to college. I really didn't want to go, but since I didn't know what else to do and it was expected that I'd want to attend college, I went. I picked music because that was what I had been doing. The problem was, I knew this wasn't going to be a career. I wasn't that good at playing to make it professionally, nor did I really want to. So, I got a teaching degree. I made an excellent teacher's assistant. The year I spent doing that was awesome. I loved helping the teacher, giving private assistance to struggling students, taking care of the mundane bullshit so the teacher could actually teach. The bad thing was it didn't pay a whole lot (couldn't have supported myself on it) and then schools started tightening their belts. The next year I tried being an actual teacher and realized I was in a place I didn't want to be. Several separate instances occurred that made me realize I needed to quit, so I did. It was the first time in my life I ever did something that was right for ME. Problem was (and still is), I didn't know what I really wanted to do.

I thought I was close when I got my graphic design degree. I loved school and the whole creative process there. Too bad that doesn't carry over to a work environment. Doing design for other people sucks. They take your initial great idea and change it to a point that you're no longer proud of or want your name associated with it. Maybe I could do it if I could find someone willing to pay the salaries that they used to, but these days the job pays peanuts. Now I'm stuck in a prepress job that I hate. It pays more than the design work did, but not as much as I want to make. The job pretty much has no future. If I stuck it out a few more years, I may make another $5 an hour, but I honestly don't see the company lifting its raise freeze any time soon. Plus, with more magazines going digital and lots of companies looking to cut their costs, the print industry is going to undergo major changes, too. Since our company resists change, I'll be surprised if they stay in business.

The little voice in my head keeps nagging me to figure out what I want to be. I hope I do it soon.

Here's a mish-mash of stuff that I've been wanting to share so I can close some of my Firefox tabs.

Bugknits. This woman's work is awesome! Althea Crome creates the most amazing colowork sweaters in miniature. (Yes, the sweater is being shown on fingers).



I love the vintage dish towel I saw on the Cherry Hill Cottage blog (Beware! It's one of those sites with autoplay music). It's the one with the crocheted chicken edging. I wish I could find a pattern for those. They are adorable!

I want to get this playhouse for Flash from the BinkyBunny.com site. It's not that expensive, so if she doesn't use it, I wouldn't be out that much money.

I want to make this cute owl hat.

I love these charts for Harry Potter blank squares. Maybe I'll make myself a Severus pillow.

There, that will close a few tabs (especially the danged autoplay music one).

As I sit here weeding out old blog posts (paid links to stuff I don't/won't use again are being purged as well as duplicate or unnecessary posts), I realized that I've been doing this for almost NINE YEARS. Wow. Time flies.

I started blogging back when I was going to school. Between that and a full-time job, the only way I could let family & friends know what was up was to post to a blog. Ultimately, it's become the chronicle of my life and I'm saddened at the holes I find where I couldn't bring myself to write about what was happening at the time.

I'm glad my blogging mojo is back. I've sure missed this place. Now to get her all fixed up and pretty.