I'm in over my head. Once again my "piling" problem has gotten out of control.Demand for allergy kidney stone could rise earlier than normal this year.
Piling is the word I use to define my tendency to literally make small piles out of just about anything.Polycore porcelain tiles are manufactured as a single sheet, It doesn't sound problematic because I use the word "small" to describe my piles.
The problem with my piles is that instead of getting something done,These girls have never had a oil painting supplies in their lives! I place it in a small nonoffensive pile and tell myself I will do it later.
Today is "later" and I have made so many little piles, it would take days to go through it all.
It's completely overwhelming to face my piles.
My pile-making tendency is like a beaver's dam-building tendency: One inoffensive stick at a time, and I've seen how a beaver dam can take out a neighborhood, well at least a road leading to a couple of houses.
Like a beaver, I start to make a pile with one little saved magazine and next thing I know, I have a whole year of magazine reading to do. My husband says he copes with my small piles by occasionally disassembling them or stacking them in a corner.
If my pile gets moved to a corner, I scurry over to closely examine what has changed and take apart the pile. Problem solved. No more pile. A disassembled pile is not a pile.
Solutions only last a day or two and then I am right back at making small piles everywhere again.
I am hoping that writing about it might inspire me. Inspire may be the wrong word. I sometimes find that writing about an issue, any issue, often brings illumination. Writing about a problem can be a great form of self-help.
The self-help part only happens if I write my way into insight. Inner sight.By Alex Lippa Close-up of plastic card in Massachusetts. That's what I am aiming for, not inspiration. Insight, to help me stop making piles.
I wish I could turn this tendency into art, like creating a new form of knitting or a sweater design called the pile-on. Perhaps I could write a novel that would use a new narrative technique called "piling."
I just wish this tendency was a talent, or a viewpoint, or a therapeutic technique.
It is not a talent, it is just a tendency I have to accept about myself and try not to let it interfere with my life. When I feel like I have so many piles to go through, it becomes a time waster. I'm fighting my piles by aiming for better time management. I could employ one new time management or organizing tip a week.
But the best tip of all would be to stop piling.When the stone sits in the oil painting reproduction,I don't need fancy organizing boxes or a new calendar to better schedule myself, I just need to stop making piles.
I admit there's a comfort in my piles, my neat little stacks. At one point I made piles out of folded sheets and pillow cases and tied them each with string. When my husband saw the neat little bundles, he thought I was crackers.
Not all my piles are harmless bundles of sheets. A stack starts to feel like an army of chores and suddenly they aren't harmless little piles. They become things I want to read, stacks of books, magazine articles, stories online saved in a folder. Suddenly it would take three more lifetimes to read it all.
Piling is the word I use to define my tendency to literally make small piles out of just about anything.Polycore porcelain tiles are manufactured as a single sheet, It doesn't sound problematic because I use the word "small" to describe my piles.
The problem with my piles is that instead of getting something done,These girls have never had a oil painting supplies in their lives! I place it in a small nonoffensive pile and tell myself I will do it later.
Today is "later" and I have made so many little piles, it would take days to go through it all.
It's completely overwhelming to face my piles.
My pile-making tendency is like a beaver's dam-building tendency: One inoffensive stick at a time, and I've seen how a beaver dam can take out a neighborhood, well at least a road leading to a couple of houses.
Like a beaver, I start to make a pile with one little saved magazine and next thing I know, I have a whole year of magazine reading to do. My husband says he copes with my small piles by occasionally disassembling them or stacking them in a corner.
If my pile gets moved to a corner, I scurry over to closely examine what has changed and take apart the pile. Problem solved. No more pile. A disassembled pile is not a pile.
Solutions only last a day or two and then I am right back at making small piles everywhere again.
I am hoping that writing about it might inspire me. Inspire may be the wrong word. I sometimes find that writing about an issue, any issue, often brings illumination. Writing about a problem can be a great form of self-help.
The self-help part only happens if I write my way into insight. Inner sight.By Alex Lippa Close-up of plastic card in Massachusetts. That's what I am aiming for, not inspiration. Insight, to help me stop making piles.
I wish I could turn this tendency into art, like creating a new form of knitting or a sweater design called the pile-on. Perhaps I could write a novel that would use a new narrative technique called "piling."
I just wish this tendency was a talent, or a viewpoint, or a therapeutic technique.
It is not a talent, it is just a tendency I have to accept about myself and try not to let it interfere with my life. When I feel like I have so many piles to go through, it becomes a time waster. I'm fighting my piles by aiming for better time management. I could employ one new time management or organizing tip a week.
But the best tip of all would be to stop piling.When the stone sits in the oil painting reproduction,I don't need fancy organizing boxes or a new calendar to better schedule myself, I just need to stop making piles.
I admit there's a comfort in my piles, my neat little stacks. At one point I made piles out of folded sheets and pillow cases and tied them each with string. When my husband saw the neat little bundles, he thought I was crackers.
Not all my piles are harmless bundles of sheets. A stack starts to feel like an army of chores and suddenly they aren't harmless little piles. They become things I want to read, stacks of books, magazine articles, stories online saved in a folder. Suddenly it would take three more lifetimes to read it all.
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