Love Me, Love My Styles

 True Confession #48: Sometimes, it's hard to accept our styles. 

Although the heart of organizing by style is embracing our default styles and building from there, let's face it: sometimes, it's hard to let go of what we think we should be doing. When we come up against an organizing challenge and someone suggests a tried-and-true tool like a binder or a file cabinet, we might be comfortable saying they don't work for us, but still a bit sensitive to the eye-roll or argument that may follow. 

I mean, those tools work for everyone, right?

Only they don't. And finding what does can be a challenge. It can require reconfigurations that we love but others don't understand. (Just ask my husband what he thinks of my open-top files in the family room). It can reinforce the idea that, for us, organizing hasn't always been second-nature.

Only it can be. 

I've been organizing by style for sixteen years and I don't miss filing cabinets at all. In fact, I've even been known to invite the occasional pretty, visually appealing binder back into my office, provided it follows my rules. And, while I still revert to piling when things get busy or I'm in the middle of an organizing project, it's a temporary stopgap measure, not an organizational system. Most of all, I protect clear space now with a ferocity I didn't know I had when it came to organization, and I'm immune to the eyeballs of my audience when I do so.

Never come between a Jersey girl and her clear space.

I know I've said it hundreds of times before, but organizing is a process. But, the process of accepting ourselves as we are -- whether it comes to organizing or anything else -- isn't always easy or fast. So, let me ask you this: is organizing by style working for you? 

If it is, keep doing what you're doing because it only gets easier with practice.

And, while you're at it, tell that inner voice that's making it hard for you to accept your styles (Your parents? Your sixth grade teacher? That girl in your math class who always had everything together and got straight As?) that you've got this. 

The more you tell them, and the better you get at this, the more you'll believe it, and the better you'll get at strengthening perhaps the most important organizing tool of all. 

Self-confidence.

You've got this.

Conferring with the Packing Experts

  When it comes to organizing, there are some ideas that are unique, but there's also a lot of advice that's consistent no matter whose book or blog post you're reading. Last week, I shared a True Confessions post about my packing style and so this week, I thought it would be interesting to see how it stacks up against advice from a travel pro.

The back page of the Summer 2023 issue of Explore Your AAA magazine featured an article entitled "Packing Tips for Any Trip." As I read it, I was excited to find that, over time, I've learned to do most of the things in the article, along with a couple of good tips to remember and/or consider.

Here's the rundown, with my comments. 

Give yourself plenty of time to pack. This tip inspired me to write "define 'pack'" in the margin. Like me, the article defines packing rather loosely, including things like making lists and dropping items into an empty suitcase (or, in my keep-it-simple "drop and run" case, a laundry basket). To that I'd add the suggestion of being as consistent as possible in where you jot things down. One master list (or an app, as the article suggests) is much more useful than a dozen random pieces of paper.

Create a travel checklist that details what you'll wear each day. I don't do this because A) I'm too lazy B) I like spontaneity and C) what if the weather changes? (But mostly A). I do, however, try to pack tops that go with multiple bottoms to increase flexibility and because spills happen. At least to me.

Pack an extra phone charger and a portable power bank. Yes! And somehow I only remember this about half the time. I need to add a note about this to my pre-packed bag which contains...

Travel sizes of grooming items. I have a makeup bag exclusively for travel which I keep pre-packed. There's also a packing checklist stored in the bin that houses that bag. For some reason (stubbornness?) I choose to use that list even less often than I remember to pack the portable power bank. (I always bring charging cords).

Stash an empty water bottle in your carry-on that you can fill at any water fountain. Granted, this idea was more appealing pre-COVID, but any time I can avoid paying premium prices for plastic water bottles, it's a win.

Put shoes in thin plastic bags. One of my favorite travel hacks. In addition, any time sheets come in one of those handy drawstring bags, I save them to use for this precise purpose. And, the other day, my new shoes came in their own individual bags (one per shoe, inside the box!). Definitely saving those! As with the water bottle, these hacks are good for the environment, too. I can wash and reuse those bags rather than having to replace the plastic ones which inevitably tear.

Invest in a set of packing cubes. Best packing hack ever! I just did this last year and it has revolutionized my packing.

Tuck a fabric softener sheet into your suitcase. I do this when I store the suitcase rather than when I travel. Either way, a nice-smelling suitcase makes travel nicer, too.

Stow necessities in your carry-on. For me, this even includes putting my medications in my purse instead of a suitcase, even for car trips. I don't want to have to rummage through suitcases to find my medications if we get delayed somewhere or if someone has an upset stomach or a headache.

The online version of the article has two additional tips: preparing for bad weather and tucking in some scented soaps to make a connection between home and your destination.  

No matter where you're going, it's always nice to be able to find what you want in short order, whether during the trip, or upon arrival. A little bit of planning helps to ensure that we can spend as much time as possible enjoying ourselves because we need to spend only a little bit of time accessing what we need.

Bon voyage!

Planning to Pack

 True Confession #43: I am a last minute packer.

It makes no difference how much lead time I have. It makes little difference how busy I am (although that is a factor). When it comes to packing, I am always putting things together the night before we leave.

And the day of departure.

International trips notwithstanding, my clothes don't go in my suitcase until the last possible minute. I start mental preparations ahead of time, and do lots of laundry basket packing (clean clothes come upstairs and the ones I'm thinking of taking along go into a laundry basket in my bedroom) but rarely do things make it into a suitcase sooner than the night before.

Procrastination is definitely a factor, as is experience, but the most important factor that lets me get away with this is the fact that I have a process.

• Pre-Pack. With the exception of make-up and medicine, all of my toiletries are always packed. And long before I put anything in a suitcase, I'm making lists and tossing odds and ends into bags (and that laundry basket) so I don't forget to pack them.
• Pack as I go/stash it when I think of it. I always pack make-up and medicine the day I leave, immediately after I use it. That way, I'm less likely to forget something I need. At times  (like now) when I'm busy, I pull contenders for the suitcase out as I get dressed. One sweater to put on, another to pack. 
• Develop a routine. For me, it's laying everything out on a flat surface where I can see it, which makes it much easier for me to figure out what I have and what's missing. (I also make lists). To my husband, my plan looks like chaos, but it works for me, so I stand by it. Likewise, your plan doesn't have to make sense to anybody else; it just has to work for you.

I certainly don't recommend waiting until the last minute to get everything together. But, if you find yourself in that situation, as I so often do, getting it together successfully is possible, especially if you have a process.

More on packing next week as I compare my packing style to AAA recommendations.

Making Space

   A few weeks ago, over on the Porch Swing Chronicles, I wrote about the mixed emotions I had as I embarked on the journey of getting a new car. I thought that post would be the end of it. I'd pour my feelings out onto the page, contemplate the right name for my new vehicle (the only one I've ever actually considered naming), and move on to other posts. 

But a funny thing happened that week, a moment in time that opened the door to a deeper understanding of the emotions behind this whole process. I was running some errands, dropping things off here and there. I’d parked my car out in front of my friend's house and, as I was heading up the driveway to get into my car and drive home, I saw the new car and thought, "That's my car."

That's my car?

Pretty and shiny, not yet hard-driven or well-loved.

But mine. The realization made me smile, and it made me think. 

Driving my Scion past its prime and getting every penny out of the car payments I'd made on my first-ever new car had been a point of pride. It was a choice that said I wasn't the kind of person who needed to have a new car every five years. I was practical, not frivolous; conservative, not wasteful. And, more important, driving my beloved Scion for as long as possible was a thing I could do to make another thing -- a much less logical thing -- happen. 

I could retire from my school counseling job. Although I didn't realize it until just last week, my Scion, like my Celica, was a declaration of independence car.

Apparently I have a pattern. 

I knew that the Scion had seen me through a lot. That I'd driven it throughout most of my daughter's life. That it had been my first ever new car. But it was only when I realized that I'd driven it through the transition from my old life to my new one -- much like my Celica -- and kept driving it after that that I began to understand why I'd been so emotional about giving it up.

Though retiring from my job in public education was bittersweet, it was the right thing to do on so many levels. But the decision was decidedly not practical. It brought emotional freedom, but carried a financial cost, one I was determined would not impact my family negatively in any significant way. I scaled back a lot of wishes, dreams, and purchases but that was my thing, not theirs. I was determined that getting the thing I wanted wouldn't come at a cost to anyone but me.

Let me be clear. This was not martyrdom. It was full out Jersey girl determination. My car was not only security (No car payment! One less thing to worry about!) but, quite literally, the vehicle that got me from my first career to my interim year to my second career.

And I became very attached.

Which explains a lot about the roller coaster of emotions I've been on for the past few weeks -- about a car, for heaven's sake! I spent a lot of time chiding myself for being so attached to an object. For crying over losing a thing. But, I wasn't just trading in a thing. I was trading in something that had gotten me from one point in my life to another, both literally and figuratively. 

Although “Let it go” is an integral part of getting organized, it’s easier to let go of some things than others. When we feel an emotional attachment to something, maybe that’s telling us something - something that we have to acknowledge before we can truly make the decision to keep it or let it go.

Hanging onto things that make us smile or even things that make us a little sad because they represent something that we no longer have doesn’t mean that we are materialistic or selfish. There’s no need to chide ourselves for feeling moved by an object. If we’re transferring all of our affection to an object, that could be concerning but if, as is often the case, that object is a trigger for something deeper, maybe it’s not such a bad idea to hang onto it a little longer.

There’s a limit of course. Hanging on to a car versus hanging onto a drawing that our twenty-something made in preschool are two completely different things. We need to acknowledge what we have space for.  But we also need to consider not only what we have space for in our homes, but in our hearts as well.

It makes me sad to think about someone else driving my Scion but it’s time to shift my thinking. Maybe, just maybe, mahatma car will be someone else's declaration of independence car. Maybe, after all she saw me through, it was time to pass her along to someone who needs her more than I do.

I have no doubt she's up to the task.

Creating a Home Away From Home

  I thought that since I wrote about car organization last week, it'd be a good time for another post about organizing other spaces.

I love hotel rooms and vacation spaces. Aside from the fact that being in one of these places usually means I'm taking a break for fun and/or learning, I love how easy it is to be organized in these spaces.

First of all, the sheer amount of stuff I have with me is minimized, limited to only what I could fit in the suitcase and various tote bags I packed specifically for the occasion. Hanging my clothes up is something I want to do because the alternative is to leave them crumpled up in my suitcase.
Not cool.

Second, these spaces are compartmentalized. There's the closet (for clothes), the desk (for my laptop and other work materials), the bed (for sleeping), the bathroom (for toiletries and makeup), and, if I'm lucky, some sort of reading chair/sofa/side table combination (for leisure). Figuring out where everything goes is easy which means that most of the time, everything is either where I packed it (where I left it last) or where it belongs. Everything. Nothing is homeless and, as long as I packed it, it has to be in the room somewhere.

I also designate spots for things like chargers (the one for my laptop is with my laptop and the one for my phone is usually on the desk as well) and my room key. Putting things in the same spot each time saves search time and, in addition, helps to create the habit of taking what I need with me when I go.

Last weekend, we were at the beach. We stay at the same condo complex each time and the number of rooms and their composition/layout are pretty similar from one unit to the next. This allows me to do the same type of organizing in this much larger space as I do in a hotel room.

While it might seem silly to focus on organization while I'm on vacation, for me, this predictability and consistency (not to mention knowing where to find my things) contributes to a sense of relaxation. It's not really surprising that that is the case since the same thing is true at home. The better organized I am and the less stuff I have laying around, the less stressed I feel.

How about you? When you take a vacation, do you take a vacation from organization as well?

Closing Loopholes

 

A few weeks ago, I got a new car. My well-loved, reliable Scion XA and I had been together for almost 17 years but, on a recent trip to Pittsburgh, I developed a wandering eye. It's a long time on the turnpike for a driver who goes mostly to work (or Starbucks) and back, and checking out the competition was as good a way as any to pass the time.

I was just looking. I loved my car and wasn't (yet) serious about trading her in.

Although, truth be told, I had done a little research. After lunch with a friend a few weeks before the Pittsburgh trip, I stopped into the dealership next to the restaurant to get some information.

Then I went to Pittsburgh. Shortly after I returned, my Scion's check engine light came on. It wouldn't be that expensive to fix it, relatively speaking, but my research told me that it would cost more than a car payment.

Trading in my car was a much more emotional experience than I anticipated. In fact, I did every mental manipulation possible to rationalize getting a new car and keeping my old one, too. 

In the end, logic prevailed. Tearfully, I emptied out my Scion, preparing to trade her in. Sadness turned to amazement, tinged with embarrassment.

 

How had I managed to fit all of this stuff in my little car? And why ?

About eight years ago, I wrote a blog post about things you'll find in my car, but not my husband's. They were: 

• Paper and a writing implement.

• Tissues or napkins (I have both). 

• A blanket. .

• An umbrella.  

These things were, as it turned out, a teeny, tiny sample of all the stuff that was in my Scion. Things were (mostly) organized, but please! Was all this stuff really necessary?

No. No, it was not.

When we own something for a long time, whether it's a house or a car, we accumulate stuff. And often, as long as there's space, we keep accumulating, sometimes to an embarrassing degree.

Even if we know better. Even if we write about organizing.

I hauled all the stuff into the house, determined to do better. I did a quick sort, immediately tossing the stuff that was easy to part with and separating the things I really did use from the things that were questionable. I tossed the blanket in with the laundry and left everything that remained in a box in the mudroom.

Over the next week, I slowly added things to the new car which is, I might add, significantly larger (i.e. more room to accumulate unnecessary stuff) than the old one. While the four things above were among the first to make it into the car, I made rules about what else could join them.

 

·      Before it went into the car, I had to know where it was going, i.e. glove box, that cool (new to me) compartment between the seats, or the trunk.

·      Seats are a home for people, not things.

·      If possible/practical, it needed to be contained (no loose items).

 

Regular readers know I’m not much of a hard-and-fast-rules kind of girl but these rules closed loopholes that had allowed an entire box full of (largely unnecessary) stuff to collect in my car. Most of the stuff in my car had had a home, but some of the homes (the back seat) weren’t the best choice. Most of the stuff in my car was contained, but the stuff that wasn’t made things look cluttered.

 

I’m happy to report that the rules are working. There is one piece of paper on the passenger’s seat, there to remind me of an errand I need to run. Otherwise, when I get into my new car, there’s a lovely new car sense of peace to go with the new car smell.

 

Are these the best rules for you? Maybe not. Maybe you need different rules to hone in on the things that cause clutter to collect in your car (or house). If so, I’d suggest starting small; fewer rules are easier to stick to. And I’d highly recommend starting a car organizing session by cleaning everything out, even if it means doing it in stages (the glove box one day, the trunk on another day). 

 

We spend a lot of time in our cars. We can’t control what goes on outside the vehicle (or even inside, some days), but we can control what we put in it.

Confessing Again

 When I was younger, summer was the time for re-runs. Between the final episodes of television shows in the spring and the fall premieres, networks re-aired episodes that had already run, and we had all summer to re-watch and/or catch up. 

That was, of course, before VCRs, DVRs, and streaming.

You might have noticed that this blog has gone to an every-other-Thursday posting schedule. A variety of factors led to this decision but, some weeks, the blog space looks bare. So, this summer, I decided to re-run some of my favorite Wednesday True Confessions posts in the weeks between Thursday posts. 

I hope you enjoy them.

True Confession #1: I am a container collector. Last weekend, as I was working on decluttering my office, I realized that the magazine holders I was using to corral my notebooks were the wrong tool for the job. Fortunately, I only had to go my basement to find an appropriate replacement.

Okay, I admit it. I love to wander the container aisles of, well, pretty much any store. Although I go home empty-handed most of the time (unless I'm in search of a particular item), that has more to do with my container collection than a high degree of self-control. Between the bags and organizers I have left over from my days selling Thirty-One gifts and the office/paper organizers I have left over from my days as a school counselor doing organizer giveaways, I have quite the selection on hand in my basement. When I don't have the tool that's "just right," I go shopping (excitedly and without hesitation) but most of the time, I check my inventory before I buy.

I do have a weakness for paper storage products, though, along with unique containers and, of course, bargains. Consequently, when I give in to temptation and buy something to add to my collection, it's usually out of dollar bins (or at the dollar store) or in the office supply aisle.

Last weekend, I was grateful for my collection. Within fifteen minutes of identifying the container as the problem, I'd found something better, replaced the magazine holders and improved the look of the counter in my office.

Did I get rid of the magazine holders? Please. They were perfectly reusable. Just because they didn't work in the office doesn't mean they won't work somewhere else.

So into the basement they went because, after all, there's nothing quite like a container that's a perfect fit.