I'm completely overwhelmed when I look around my little house that has barely contained me and my belongings (plus holdovers of Kate's) for thirteen years. I don't know where to start. The timeline to get my stuff in order is pretty darn short, so I have got to get off the dime and start sorting things into "Keep," "Donate," "Sell," "Trash." Where's that irritating "Life Laundry" woman when I need her?
Closets, cupboards, out-in-the-open stuff, and the attic. Dear God, the attic! Every time I gravitate toward a likely-looking starting point, I end up walking away, shaking my head.
The whole thing reminds me of that wonderful Anne Lamott book, Bird by Bird. The title comes from a story about her little brother, who was faced with a school report on birds. He was fretting and stressing at the kitchen table, when his father walked in and asked what he was doing. The boy told him that he had a big report to do on birds and he just couldn't figure out where to start. His father patted him on the shoulder and said, "Bird by bird, son. Bird by bird."
Now, if I can just decide which bird to start with . . .
If anyone has any advice on this, let me know. Soon!