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Writer's picturePaula F. Hill

Everything in it's place.


Where the hell is my purse hiding?

My cell phone is missing and I have to get outta here!

When did my pile of vitamins get moved?

How the hell did my keys get lost again?

I put the important document I needed somewhere “safe” wherever the hell that is!

Who took my cup of coffee with the perfect amount of cream, just as I’m leaving the house?

How did I leave my lunch behind again?

Where’s my cell phone charger?

I wonder if I’ll recognize myself at times, in the flurry of panic.

Why did I even bother getting out of bed when I know I’ll be frustrated and consumed by lost time searching for the next thingamajig?

When things are willy nilly, scattered, selling out over the edges, I feel pinpricked, out-of-sorts, discombobulated, frazzled, dreamy and detached. Until I feel fury, slowly hardening my Soul, in times of chaos and confusion, lost time, disappointment and rupture.

I feel the waves of angst press against my body and seek counsel in popcorn, dark rich chocolate of any shape, a robust cup of coffee laced with cream and sugar, glass of red wine that bites the back of my throat, languishing in another Soprano episode and another, until the hours are whittled away. Time whisked from my grasp like a beta fish, sliding vicariously down the sink, while emptying the bowl. In a flash, patience and self-forgiveness is a thing of the past.

It’s like portion-control. I have to give myself time slots that I can manage the stuff in my life, to find the perfect spot for the thing I need to find in a timely manner.

My life will improve when I take the time to organize and prepare

a spot for the:

  • keys

  • cell phone

  • and necessary charger

  • purse

  • water bottle (preferably filled)

  • snacks (and some to share with the people in need on the corner)

  • bank deposit slips

  • stamps

  • leash

  • daily postcards

  • my current novel

  • calendar

  • biodegradable dog poop bags

  • and the latest addition to the list:

  • Portable Color Me Calm coloring book

I have to hire my clone to Sort my Affairs. To sketch it out, make a Plan, declutter, toss and spit shine.

I mean it. I can do the work, and keep the environment consistent, like the dog at mealtime.

The transformation is abrupt and unconditional, perfect in its order and grace.

A decision is made and the brain brings it in, like a cog in the wheel of a new life.

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