Shhh, my sister is working, not dinking around on the internet like the rest of us. I’m sharing her office this morning, and let me just say, she is organized to a degree that makes me wonder if she’s a changeling.

No one else in the family has binders for things like “ROI” and “Lists” (she even has one called “Atta Girl,” full of the good things people have said to and about her, which means she can track personal, as well as as business ROI.)* We do not have whiteboard calendars to track the next three months in our busy, busy lives (although we all have busy, busy lives). We don’t have our priorities written out on a wipeable board right next to our desk. Hers says “Keepin’ it Real” with a list of things that need to be accomplished underneath, and if I know my sister all those things will get done, and pronto. (I imagine that erasing each newly conquered task is delicious.)

Instead, the rest of us have stacks and stacks, entire cities of paper threatening to fall over like some office-based version of a disaster flick where a beloved urban center (New York, Paris, San Francisco) is threatened by disaster (meteor, earthquake, alien invasion). We have filing systems begun in more hopeful times, where the most recent item was tucked away no more than two weeks after the creation of each particular folder. We have arrays of tubs, boxes, and accordion folders filled with stray, yellowing evidence of our goals, dreams, and questionable spending choices. (And by “we,” I really mean “me.”)

Kate’s also good at doping out the options. Last night, she sat me down and did a pros and cons exercise, trying to figure out what to do about my house. We looked at three scenarios:

Keep it on the market and hope it sells soon (pros: monkey off my back, cons: expensive, no guarantees). This is the lump-sum loss option, where freedom comes at a heavy price.

Rent it out and live cheaply somewhere else (pros: could possibly write off loss when I do sell down the road, cons: lose the interest deduction, all the hassles of landlordery). This is the death by a thousand cuts option, which would keep me in limbo.

Give up and get a roommate (pros: save a little money, have a little company, cons: the vagaries of people, still spending too much). This is the community potluck option, where the right person makes all the difference.

Kate ruled out option 2 right away. “You’d HATE being a landlord!” she pointed out. “All the maintenance, none of the benefit.” And that is right on the money. Thanks, sister.

She suggests I combine options 1 and 3, and look for a roomie in transition (hey, common ground!). So is there anyone out there who’s getting a divorce or making a life change or doing a semester at the University who wants to share a big gorgeous old house with a kindly oddball and a pair of delightful pups? We could cook! We could lounge around the house in our jams! We could talk about our feelings! And I’d even bring back cable tv, if you wanna watch bad reality shows and great cable dramas together…

My email’s over there —>

PS: Just as I finished up this post, Kate turned to me and lamented her lackadaisical nature. You hide it well, sister. Thanks for all the help.

PPS: The mutt above is Millie, aka Milded Fierce, the resident teen terror. See that tail in action? You can’t, because she’s all blur and no boundaries. Poodle-mix, my ass. She’s straight-up terrier.

*It also gives her something to look at on tricky, maudlin nights after a couple of glasses of wine. Would that I had such a thing. Instead, I write dire blogposts and share it all with you. Thanks for listening, internet.

Tags: organization, to do lists

This entry was posted on Monday, November 9th, 2009 at 2:46 pm and is filed under Dogs, Family. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.