My paper nemesis has finally met its match. And it’s all because of a helicopter.
A helicopter?
Yes, a helicopter.
I’m sitting at the island in our kitchen Friday morning, eating breakfast and reading Andre Agassi’s new book Open (which is why I’m writing in the present tense, like Agassi’s book – my brain is stuck there) and I hear a very loud sound. I figure it’s the loudest truck I’ve ever heard on the highway below our house. But the truck never goes away. And all of a sudden it’s right outside my kitchen window!
It’s not a truck, it’s a helicopter, and it’s hovering at eye level just a few feet from my window. It’s a police helicopter, I think. Geeze, did I do something wrong? I feel like I’m in a scene from “True Lies.” I expect Arnold to come swooping down on a zip line and throw a bag over my head and haul me away.
Then I look around my house and realize that the helicopter people can see into my house (I live in a glass house, basically, but have never considered this a problem before). Horrors! I wouldn’t mind normally, but I have just spent a week pulling out every piece of paper in the house. My dining room table is covered, my entryway is covered. I am very neat with things, but when it comes to paper…let’s just say I have issues with paper. It’s the bane of my existence.
What if the helicopter people take pictures of my paper mess and put them on the Internet?! It’s the big fear of my life. Someone will see my paper!
Normally, my paper is mostly out of sight, or at least in one place. But now it is all spread out so that I can see it (and the helicopter people can see it) – in an attempt to get rid of it.
So, following Murphy’s Law, it only stands to reason that this is when a helicopter finally comes to peer around my property and maybe in my windows!
I determine right then and there that something has to be done. Paper just grows out of nowhere in my life. I don’t bring it into my house anymore, but it is always there – more and more every day…it’s like the Thing, and it oozes into every area of my life.
I call my daughter and ask her to, please, come help me with my paper!!! This is a task that has been tried by many, conquered by none.
I tell her I’ll buy her a Cold Stone. She’s in.
It seems that our relationship has become defined by ice cream, usually Cold Stone. Whenever we decide to meet at a certain parking lot to carpool, for instance, the description is always, “The one next to the Cold Stone.” When we plan an outing to get fabric for new pillows, we say, “Then we’ll get a Cold Stone.” Or, “I’ll let you buy me a Cold Stone.” Any excuse is a good excuse when it comes to Cold Stone.
But I digress.
Hillary decides to spend Friday night at the house and help me with my paper over the weekend. We stop at Costco on the way home to load up on pizzas and other sustenance, and Hillary feels that we also need ice creams, carry-out ice creams. So she orders up three monster cups of ice cream (everything at Costco is monster-size), and we head for the receipt-checking area at the exit. Hillary is holding these three monster ice creams, me the spinach. I say to the guy, “That’s why she’s so skinny.” He laughs and lets us pass. We’re armed and dangerous.
Ice creams and pizza – a beautiful combination.
The weekend is so productive, and she is so effective and helpful, that we come away with a plan. After handling the first pile of paper she says, “I see your problem, Mom. You’re afraid to put anything away, because you’re afraid that you’ll forget about it.” Bingo. (That’s an understatement. I’m not just afraid, I know for a fact that I will never think of it again.) Consequently, my paper is all over the place, no piece totally hidden.
She comes up with a brilliant plan. Put all the visual paper “reminders” on a list, one list, then put the papers away or throw them away. Duh.
Why didn’t I ever think of that?! I have paid oodles of money over the years to try to find a fix for my paper problem (including, most recently, hypnotherapy), but none have addressed the root of the problem and my basic fear: out of sight, out of mind. And the irony that if a paper is IN my sight, I can’t function.
At least the money got me to the point where I have wonderful systems in place. Hillary and I are able to zip through the piles and put things away/throw things away in no time!
She makes me promise that I will do at least three items on my list every day. Deal.
I am looking over my new list right now, and it’s like Christmas! Each line on the list is like an amazing present. Brand new, sparkly. It’s like I’ve never seen it before. And it looks so easy and uncomplicated. I can do this!
Give me a month to get the hang of my new system, and I think it will be life changing.
I finally remember to tell Steve about the bizarre helicopter episode. He looks at the Saturday paper, and there on the front page is an article about the police, in a helicopter, on Friday morning, looking for a lost police dog. My first thought is, Maybe the dog likes to eat paper…
Onward and upward!