Housekeeping ain’t no joke. ~ Louisa May Alcott
I base most of my fashion sense on what doesn’t itch. ~ Gilda Radner
In the previous post, I confessed to breaking a pledge by joining four new groups. While the topic is still fresh in my mind—that is, before Sunday’s ROW80 report comes along and I have to confess to a new failing—I must clarify:
These groups aren’t so much groups—well, one of them is—but are more like entities that will send e-mail for me to a) benefit from, b) ignore, or c) feel guilty about. And when I detect an excess of c), I’ll click Unsubscribe.
As a serial joiner, I’ve already had experience with c). Case in point: FlyLady.
For the uninitiated, FlyLady.net is a website dedicated to helping people unclutter. I discovered it a couple of years ago and, as is my wont, joined up.
I don’t know why it took me so long to find the site. It’s a wonder a family member, such as a cousin or a husband, didn’t sign me up years ago.
But anyway, FlyLady is wonderful. She taught me to dress and lace up shoes as soon as I get out of bed in the morning, and to shine my sink every night, and to clean in 15-minute segments, and to Swish and Swipe, and to do the 27-Fling Boogie, and to start a Control Journal, and on and on and on.
She’s also psychic. She said not to buy a new 3-ring binder for my Control Journal, because I already have a bunch lying around the house. She knows about the twenty-three categories of paper clutter I’ve collected. (Actually, I have only twenty-two, because David tosses yesterday’s newspaper every afternoon. Religiously.) She knows I’m addicted to office supplies.
She even knows about the 3 x 5 cards.
(I refuse to take responsibility for the cards. Robert Olen Butler said if I’m writing a novel, I have to use them. At last count, I’d bought 3,000 cards, lined and unlined, in a variety of colors. And I’m still on Chapter 2. For the seventeenth time. Mr. Butler is not a pantser.)
I got so wrapped up in FlyLady’s helpful hints that I blogged about Blessing My Sink.
That’s when trouble began. The next Saturday, over breakfast with friends at our favorite cafe, I explained the twelve steps of the Blessing process. In excruciating detail. David’s eyes glazed over—he’d heard it before—and the others called me several times the next week to make sure I was okay.
And then there was the e-mail. Following FlyLady’s instructions, I’d signed up for them. There were a lot. Every morning, and all day long. There were so many e-mails, I didn’t have time to Swish and Swipe.
(Years ago, I read that some people “fall into print.” I’m one of them. Show me a string of words, and I cannot look away.)
But more serious than the time element was the guilt those e-mails engendered. The writers seemed so happy. They wrote about the pleasure they got from Rescuing Rooms and putting out Hot Spots and writing things on calendars. And I was driving myself crazy just trying to keep the sink dry.
So I had to click Unsubscribe.
I still Bless My Sink occasionally. That part I do enjoy. It’s mostly waiting for the sink to finish soaking. When it’s done, and the house smells like Clorox, I feel not just pleased, but virtuous. At my suggestion, a friend tried it, and now she feels virtuous, too.
And I still visit the FlyLady site. She offers a line of high-quality products. I bought a beautiful feather duster, and when I remember where I put it, I’m going to use it. Someday I’m going to order the Rubba Package. I’m particularly interested in the Rubba Swisha. (This paragraph wasn’t composed with tongue-in-cheek folks. I’m serious. The cleaning products are excellent. I was just going through a bad patch when the feather duster arrived, and I put it where I could find it.)
Well. It’s after midnight, and I’m violating another of FlyLady’s cardinal rules—and mine—by staying up late to write. So I must draw this to a close.
I’ll just add that one of my new groups is Missus Smarty Pants. Every Tuesday, she’s going to send me a newsletter filled with fashion tips and instructions for purging my closet and accessorizing what’s left.
There’s a chance I’ll find MSP challenging, because attempts to accessorize might necessitate rejoining FlyLady so I can locate the accessories.
But I think I’ll be okay. Because I’ve already purged my closet, and there isn’t much left to accessorize.
I think FlyLady would be pleased.
7 thoughts on “The Serial Joiner”
😀 FlyLady sounds ever so slightly spooky, Kathy 😀
Kathy this post is hilarious . My girlfriend introduced me to fly lady and just like you she was addicted to it. Are you addicted to it? The fly lady was the only subject she was intersted to, so I finally said to her: it’s either me or the fly lady!
Kathy, I love this post AND the one you wrote about blessing your sink! I subscribed to FlyLady a few years ago but became overwhelmed with the volume of email. I do like the idea of blessing my sink. I see some hubby-training on the horizon! Thanks for starting my day off with a smile.
I laughed all the way through this blog. I won’t tell you how many ways you and Flylady bounced off my buttons great blog.
Now look what you did! I’ve just read this blog and the Whiskertips one on the sink (love that picture!). I think I fall into print, too. It’s a huge problem when there’s so much print lying around. Some site I just joined had me put how many books are in my TBR pile. Well, I don’t have just one. But I looked at all of them and counted 72. Then I found another small pile, so it’s 75. And there are lots more emails waiting to be read. I think I joined Flylady a few years ago (you may have put me up to that!), but I must have unjoined, too. Anyway, it’s all your fault today that I’m way behind. You’re so readable!
Love this post!
I choose to get a daily digest over the slew of emails and I hardly even open those anymore, just seeing FLYLADY in my inbox is enough to have me check my list 🙂
Can I borrow your feather duster when you find it Kathy? I bought a ‘waxed’ one… (or at least that’s what the smell of it reminds me of …. I know that sentence is backwards to forwards.. but when you actually sniff it more than once …your mind goes numb!!!) and it’s supposed to soak up the dust, Everlasting duster they call it, trouble is I don’t want to be everlasting dusting.. 😀 …….Flylady sounds ever so slightly um.. how shall I put it?… enthusiastically over the top, but entertaining … and that’s a special talent. Thanks for the laughter shared.. xPenx
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