Hitting the wall

Day three found me tired. My thought was to "just" find 25 items and put them in the give-away box. Bob thought we'd work in our bedroom .... ahhhem, I'd work on my side of the bed, that is. I drank a little green tea for a pick-me-up and then agreed.

While I sorted, cleared and piled, I suggested that he work on "his" things in the room. He did.

I had to fight off thoughts of "this is the LAST room I want to be tackling right now" and "waaaa, I can't do this!!"

There were four laundry baskets on my side of the room. He asked me to work on emptying those. I cleared two. Filled one with dirty clothes that had been mixed into a pile and returned the other empty one to the laundry room. One of the original four had books in it. I added more books to it as I came upon them in the heaps. I didn't empty the fourth one .... because it had sheets in it. At this point I don't remember if the sheets are clean or dirty. They are not sheets for my bed. I stopped there.

During the clearing process, I made piles on my bed:

• clean clothes (that need to go into my armoire  ... but can't get to to open the drawers yet)
• medication 
• labels taken off of prescription bottles (that I intend to shred) because I don't want anyone to know my personal business
• a container that I used to hold items I came upon that have a place to go to (in the house), not in my bedroom
• a box for things that will be donated
• several lists of the prescriptions I have had filled (so that I can look at them and keep the most current one -- they tell me which prescriptions were refilled and if there are any refills already ordered for them). I didn't want to look at them and make that determination now. 
• hangers I brought out of my closet to hang clean clothes on
• Possibly more, but I can't remember now

Last night I sat in a chair, Bob would hand me a box to look in. I'd throw away trash, decide what to keep and what to donate and he'd take care of that and then give me another box. 

Tonight I was working alone and it was EXHAUSTING. He was clearing and purging his things, but it wasn't the same. 

When I stopped, he said, "now, aren't you glad and don't you feel better?" I said, "no." 

Later he said "You were working for a long time and it doesn't really look any different." 

"If you don't want to be killed with a knife, these are the things you don't say to your wife." - Tim Hawkins, comedian

Day Three: goal met