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May 30, 2019

I’ve been called a lot of things.  Probably the term I’m branded most often is Clean Freak.  I’ll admit it.  I got the “O” aka "Organization" gene.  Those of us who have that unremitting trait are considered an oddity—a mutant peculiarity.  But sticks and stones, right?  I get so tired of the eye rolling and sideways glances of the lesser endowed, that I’ve become a closet closet-cleaner.  

So when the de-clutter-bug bites, who ya gonna call?  Let’s just say it’s not the hoarder down the street.  For me, clutter is equivalent to toxic waste.  When it comes to mugs, shot glasses or refrigerator magnets from who-knows-and-who-cares-where, I can be ruthless.  I’m not sentimental.  I can throw out a spoon collection, logo ball caps, snow globes or bobble hula girls with nary a twinge of regret.  And I don’t feel any sense of sacrilege tossing that wooden tiki god headfirst into the trash.  

To me junk is pure chaos.  It encumbe...

September 5, 2016

The elements of Workaholic Sushi are anything but balanced.  It’s common knowledge that work and play are equally important ingredients in a truly delectable lifestyle.  Too much work and the results are tough and heavy.  Too much play and there’s no substance.  It’s also a fact that a variety of experiences give life a satisfying assortment of flavor and excitement. And this is where I am seriously flawed.   I try to follow the recipe for a practical balanced life but it seems that page in my cookbook is always spattered and smeared, probably with soy sauce.

April 22, 2016

But, you say, I’m going to get around to that someday.  Uh huh.  And it will be awesome when I finally have time to get into it.  Mm hmm.  The thing is, someday when you finally have the time, you’re not going to want to go back and finish your old to-do list.  If it wasn’t rousing enough to motivate you to finish it the first time, it will likely be a drudgery to finish later.  Honestly, don’t you think you’ll find new projects that will interest and excite you more? Unfinished projects not only take up valuable space in your home, they take up a massive amount of subconscious vigor that's not unlike cohabitation.  They demand a ransom in one form or another and you continue to pay it for as long as you are willing.

October 14, 2015

I can send a text, make lasagna, listen to my ipod, train the dog, snap my gum and hop on one foot all at once.  It’s something that most women are very good at—Swiss army knife meets Octavius.   On the other hand most men are better at compartmentalizing—Magnifying glass meets Tupperware.

Multitasking isn’t the wondrous productive routine one might think.  Doing a bunch of stuff at the same time is like trying to hit more than one target at once, which unless you are Robin Hood, isn’t all that effective.  Even if you are Robin Hood, it’s a safe bet you’re not going to hit the bull’s eye, or shall I say bull’s eyes very often.

Diluted competency isn’t the only casualty.  Recently, we had some new neighbors move in a few blocks away.  My husband, Dee, suggested that we stop by and meet them.  “Naa,” I said, “I don’t want to.”  He looked surprised.  “Why not?”  I stammered a while and then blurted, “Because I don’t give a crap!”  Dee was shocked. “Just kidding,” I said sweet...

July 21, 2015

I’m all about efficiency.  If there is a better, easier, quicker or cheaper way to go, count me in.  If I can shave a few seconds time off my routine I’m all over it.  Last week I got a $120 speeding ticket—definitely not the most economical way to go—so quicker wasn’t better or cheaper, which I duly noted on my Improve My Performance list. 

Few things bother me more than ineptness, unnecessary repetition and simple incompetence.  Simply put, if you can improve a situation, do—if you can’t, don’t.  I guess that’s why I’m always hollering at politicians.  They never go in a straight line from A to B.  It’s round and round the mulberry bush and not with a pair of pruners in hand.  Drives me nuts.

And politicians aren’t the only ones imposing their dogma.  It’s probably an inefficient waste of blood pressure when I get my dander up over little things like the power going out causing the numbers on the microwave to flash on and off.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate...

February 28, 2015

I’ve been called a lot of things.  Probably the term I’m branded most often is Clean Freak.  I’ll admit it.  I got the “O” gene.  Those of us who have that unremitting trait are considered an oddity—a mutant peculiarity.  But sticks and stones, right?  I get so tired of the eye rolling and sideways glances of the lesser endowed, that I’ve become a closet closet-cleaner.  

So when the de-clutter-bug bites, who ya gonna call?  Let’s just say it’s not the hoarder down the street.  For me, clutter is equivalent to toxic waste.  When it comes to mugs, shot glasses or refrigerator magnets from who-knows-and-who-cares-where, I can be ruthless.  I’m not sentimental.  I can throw out a spoon collection, logo ball caps, snow globes or bobble hula girls with nary a twinge of regret.  And I don’t feel any sense of sacrilege tossing that wooden tiki god headfirst into the trash.  

To me junk is pure chaos.  It encumbers not only the shelves,...

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