files, files

or the lack of, really. my mother often asks why i can’t apply my job-related organizational skills to my life. i always reply with a large sigh and say that i’ve used them up. which is, you have to admit, a potential reason.

 nevertheless (i love that silly word! let’s just mash a few words together!)

what? oh yes, files. i’ve spent a rather unproductive evening (slowly, slightly productive) going through collections of papers and stuff in the hopes of condensing and tossing out. the amount of paperwork one requires to be an average adult human is astounding. and ultimately ridiculous. i do have a collection of file folders, filled with names of companies that take money, give money, hold money or otherwise have to do with money. apparently nothing else in life rates mountains of informative, useless paperwork. where is the three page, indecipherable form telling me what kind of flowers i like this year and where i like to take walks?

is it just my difficulty in organizing my personal life? is it an unwillingness to do the workof being a grown up? it is, as it seems on the surface, a dislike of everything being about money? i’ve been meaning to purchase one of those hundred dollar metal boxes to hold files, maybe that will help.

what else. it looks like i’m sliding back into the default (genetically programmed, i’m convinced) sleeping schedule. i’m also picking up that old habit of forgetting to arrange un-errand reasons to leave the house. i did however make it to the monthly stage managers’ gathering. a member volunteered to hold the gathering at her new house, which i liked far more than our usual restaurant locale. one of the students who shadowed me recently came to the event with others in her class–glad to see some young ones with potential. for pete’s sake (who is pete? one of the saint’s? is it not the less religiously loaded option i think it is?) i am calling them young ones. i suppose i’ve been around in this town long enough to be able to say it… and i am toying with the idea of becoming a certified teacher (on route to getting a ma or mfa in something so as to be able to teach at university level in more places…) though the thought of being a student again, having to take core classes that don’t interest me at all, having to be graded rather than simply judged, being treated like a young one…ick ick ick.