The Ups and Downs of Learning How to Buck the Consumer Economy
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Monday, December 27, 2010
Would Whatever It Was That Stole My Groove Please Bring It Back?
Well it's been nearly ten days since I last posted. I haven't been doing anything remotely homestead-y, and then Christmas happened. I really hope everyone had a great holiday. I have mixed feelings about mine because I went down to visit with my family, which was great! But it wasn't quite the boost in the arm that I was hoping for. I don't know if it's being out of work for over a year and feeling pretty helpless about that, or if the somber Oregon rainy weather is doing it, but I'm finding that I'm having trouble lately being interested in the many things in which I'm interested, and that usually means that I'm depressed. Maybe blue is a better way to put it- I am not one of those pitiable individuals who are racked by depression. I just get down every once in awhile. Everyone does, I suspect. I don't think it's the weather so much; I generally enjoy inclement weather and the feeling of coziness that not being out in it engenders. I really think it's the feeling of no longer being wanted or feeling useful that's doing it. I haven't even been out of work as long as others in this country have, and while statisticians and politicians tend to look at unemployment in terms of numbers, I wonder if anybody really has an idea of the toll that high unemployment costs the country in terms of optimism and confidence and hope? I never managed a degree, so I'm dealing with the want of that, but what about the young people who are graduating now- what's it doing in terms of their futures? Nothing good, I'll wager.
One view of the Room of Shame. It's a shame, isn't it?
One thing that going home for Christmas has done for me was seeing with eyes anew the incredible piles of crap in my mother's house. My mom is one of those who grew up in the Depression, and she tends to hang on to everything, just in case. Consequently, she has at least three rooms in a five bedroom house that are packed full of piles of things that might come in handy some day. Between that and the hazard to navigation that the dog crate in the middle of the kitchen creates, and the overflow of people that is seven siblings and their spouses and their children and their dogs such that you can barely move in one direction in the kitchen and actually have to go around the other side of the house by way of the living room to get to the table….the chaos is amazing. No wonder my brother-in-law who didn't grow up with this bedlam has been dealing with Christmas at my mother's for twenty-five years by drinking early (he started at nine in the morning) and taking lots of naps throughout the day! Anyway- being there was truly a good time- I miss my sibs and mother- but I'm also determined to treat the Room of Shame that is my guest room with a far more critical and severely editing eye and start throwing stuff out. And get a bid on redoing the sliding closet doors so that I can turn it into a craft closet to hold the stuff that I truly must hang onto. Maybe if I get the guest room under control, I'll feel like I have more control over the rest of my life. And then at the very least, the fact that winter is finally here means that spring is next. And hope springs eternal in the spring. I hope.
What do you do to get your groove back when it disappears?
What can I say? I'm a person of disparate interests and strengths- I keep the checkbook balanced to the penny and pay the bills on time (usually), but I can't manage to keep crap from accumulating on the dining room table. I tend to obsess over the proper use of English grammar (at least, as I understand it), but my math skills are practically non-existent. This is probably why I'm always amazed that the built-in furniture I make for this house turns out as well as it does. I find that the older I get, the less willing I am to suffer fools gladly, but I love well when I love. I shoot from the hip and eat a lot of foot, but at least you don't have to guess what I'm thinking or feeling. I sleep too little and drink too much, and I still haven't figured out what I want to be when I grow up, which is probably why I haven't. However, I do seem to fake it pretty well. To know me is to love me - at least, that's what I keep telling myself. Did I also mention that I'm a loose cannon? And now I have both a soap box and a huge megaphone called a blog....