Some time ago, I read an article (a rebuttal to a NYT piece whose author extolled the virtues of minimalism) suggesting that minimalism is really a rich man's game. I can't find the link to the article (and I'm sure plenty of people have written with a similar thesis), but it generally pointed out that, if you are rich enough to afford an iphone and a macbook, then sure, owning minimal pieces of technology is a great thing. But most of the world simply doesn't have the luxury to buy the one expensive reliable thing to meet all of their technology needs. I found the point of view interesting, but didn't really apply it to my own life until recently.
As we prepare for an upcoming move (and as I settle into a new clothing size after 2 pregnancies, a new decade of life, and a major career shift), I've been doing some serious wardrobe purging. I've given away and donated many many bags of clothes, and am delighted for the breathing room that this has introduced into my closet and life. But the process definitely called to mind that article - I found myself holding up shirts, knowing that I hadn't worn them in years and that they are currently way too tight. Old me would have kept them because "it's still a really good shirt. And maybe I'll wear it again someday!", but new me was able to say "I haven't worn this in years, it doesn't fit me, it may never fit again, and if I do find myself needing it, I can buy a new one."
This acknowledgement that I will be able to replace whatever cheap knit shirt I may happen to need is new in my life. We are in a financially more secure place than we were as 2 graduate students, and generally able to do a bit of clothes shopping without major impact on our budget. I appreciate this comfort, but it struck me that my ability to purge my wardrobe is directly traceable to our financial wellbeing.
It was also freeing to get rid of many of the clothes that I wore frequently as a graduate student. As a 30-something, a professional, and a mother, my clothing needs (and desires!) have drastically changed, and it is liberating to acknowledge that and move on, unfettered by the weight of a dozen knit shirts.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Monday, April 1, 2013
The Sentimental Value Box
Last week, I decided to organize my stash of cards and stationary. Our basement held 2 (weirdly large) boxes labeled as such and decided to condense them down to 1 organized, user-friendly tub. I estimated that the whole process would take under half an hour. Which probably wouldn't have been true anyway, but my estimate was completely laughable once I decided that one of those boxes held a mixture of blank stationary and . . . sentimental things. Hand-written letters I've received from friends and family in the last 8 years. Every single RSVP card from our wedding. All the cards we received at our wedding. Leftover programs, invitations, and stamps (yay! useful!) from our wedding. Letters and cards I wrote to Ben from Iceland (I was desperately homesick on my study abroad program there), from our brief spell of long-distance dating when I first came to grad school, and throughout our marriage. Every single football, concert, play, airplane and movie ticket (yes: movies.) that Ben and I separately hoarded throughout college and early grad school. Pencil boxes I thought were pretty but never used, because who uses pencil boxes?
Getting through that box turned into a fairly harrowing hour. I am proud to say that I disposed of most things - perhaps my proudest moment was putting the stack of wedding rsvps in the recycling. Nearly all of the tickets are in the trash (the ink had mostly disappeared anyway). A box of scrapbook-ish supplies left over from our wedding guest book got organized and added to the tag sale pile. Blank cards, envelopes, and the like got sorted into the actual stationary bin, the office-supplies area, or the tag sale pile.
Things I couldn't bring myself to throw away:
- 3 wedding RSVP's with touching personal notes added.
- The plane ticket from when Ben flew to propose to me.
- A few tickets or mementos from early or extra-special dates.
- Letters between Ben and me.
On a separate night, I went through the stuffed gallon ziploc that held all of the cards we received for our wedding and showers. Any card that was just signed after the hallmark greeting got immediately tossed (a lesson I will remember when giving cards at future weddings!); those with personal notes that had meaning to them were mostly kept. I also made a compromise with myself and kept about 10 of our leftover wedding programs, throwing another 20 or so away. So, while I'll still be storing a "wedding mementos" bag, it's smaller than it used to be by a factor of three, which feels good.
On yet another separate night, I went through the actual stationary bin. This was somewhat less riddled with sentiment, although most of the items I went through came from a distinctly different time in my life (and one in which I wrote a LOT of hand-written letters). I kept the pretty envelopes I had made out of magazine pages (on the rare occasion that I send a hand-written letter, they're still fun to use), dumped a big pile of notecards emblazoned with my maiden name (but not before writing one to my parents just because), added a few full stationary sets to the goodwill pile, and sorted what was left into more user-friendly piles. I now have a large but shallow tub filled with labeled gallon ziplocs for thank you notes, birthday cards, blank cards, postcards, other occasion cards, and assorted envelopes. I'm not convinced that this is a perfect storage system, but in the absence of extensive desk-related cupboard space, and without buy expensive organizers, it was the best I could do.
Now all that remains is to decide what to do with the legitimately sentimental items - a scrapbook? A memento box? Shove them in a box and decide later? I need to make some kind of decision in the next 2 days, before leaving a pile of love letters and the like sitting around for my visiting in-laws to read!
Getting through that box turned into a fairly harrowing hour. I am proud to say that I disposed of most things - perhaps my proudest moment was putting the stack of wedding rsvps in the recycling. Nearly all of the tickets are in the trash (the ink had mostly disappeared anyway). A box of scrapbook-ish supplies left over from our wedding guest book got organized and added to the tag sale pile. Blank cards, envelopes, and the like got sorted into the actual stationary bin, the office-supplies area, or the tag sale pile.
Things I couldn't bring myself to throw away:
- 3 wedding RSVP's with touching personal notes added.
- The plane ticket from when Ben flew to propose to me.
- A few tickets or mementos from early or extra-special dates.
- Letters between Ben and me.
On a separate night, I went through the stuffed gallon ziploc that held all of the cards we received for our wedding and showers. Any card that was just signed after the hallmark greeting got immediately tossed (a lesson I will remember when giving cards at future weddings!); those with personal notes that had meaning to them were mostly kept. I also made a compromise with myself and kept about 10 of our leftover wedding programs, throwing another 20 or so away. So, while I'll still be storing a "wedding mementos" bag, it's smaller than it used to be by a factor of three, which feels good.
On yet another separate night, I went through the actual stationary bin. This was somewhat less riddled with sentiment, although most of the items I went through came from a distinctly different time in my life (and one in which I wrote a LOT of hand-written letters). I kept the pretty envelopes I had made out of magazine pages (on the rare occasion that I send a hand-written letter, they're still fun to use), dumped a big pile of notecards emblazoned with my maiden name (but not before writing one to my parents just because), added a few full stationary sets to the goodwill pile, and sorted what was left into more user-friendly piles. I now have a large but shallow tub filled with labeled gallon ziplocs for thank you notes, birthday cards, blank cards, postcards, other occasion cards, and assorted envelopes. I'm not convinced that this is a perfect storage system, but in the absence of extensive desk-related cupboard space, and without buy expensive organizers, it was the best I could do.
Now all that remains is to decide what to do with the legitimately sentimental items - a scrapbook? A memento box? Shove them in a box and decide later? I need to make some kind of decision in the next 2 days, before leaving a pile of love letters and the like sitting around for my visiting in-laws to read!
A memo to my husband regarding stationary
There will come a time, perhaps very soon, when we will be in a store and I will see a box of thank you cards on sale, or a particularly charming greeting card, and I will want to buy it. DO NOT LET ME. Please instead remind me that we have a lifetime's worth of note cards, thank you notes, pretty paper, homemade envelopes, birthday cards, and assorted other greeting cards in a neatly organized tub in the basement.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Introducing The Microproject: for when the mini-project is just too much.
In the midst of a big grad school project (yes, I graduated a year ago, but the peer review process at scientific journals has no respect for that fact) that has to be completed evenings and weekends (I'm grateful to have a full-time job, but I'm also grateful that I didn't have a separate full-time job all the way through grad school!), I have down-sized my cleaning ambitions. It's amazing the number of cleaning and organizing projects - both grand and mini - that suddenly seem CRUCIAL and TOTALLY DOABLE when you're sitting down to chip away at a paper, but I've tried to make a note of my ideas and put them aside until later.
In that context, though, I've developed a new strategy: the micro-project. This isn't even necessarily a project, but something that can be done in 5-10 minutes without sinking you into something bigger. Today, when I needed a break from my computer, I decided I would put away/clean/take care of 10 things - no more, no less. I wiped down the dining room table and an end table in the living room, watered a plant, took a load out to the recycling bin, and found 6 small things to throw away or put away.
Today's micro-project was super satisfying (not to mention a good way to stretch a little and get into a different mode after lots of computer time). It will be my new strategy for breaks from this type of work - or maybe even for times that I just don't feel like cleaning anything. 10 things isn't many, but it makes a difference. And at the end of my 10 things, I absolutely could have kept going. It's parallel to getting yourself out for a run - I used to make the deal with myself that I was allowed to come home after 1/4 mile if I wanted to, but I had to get out and go that far. Invariably, by the time I got out the door and got moving, keeping going was no problem.
In that context, though, I've developed a new strategy: the micro-project. This isn't even necessarily a project, but something that can be done in 5-10 minutes without sinking you into something bigger. Today, when I needed a break from my computer, I decided I would put away/clean/take care of 10 things - no more, no less. I wiped down the dining room table and an end table in the living room, watered a plant, took a load out to the recycling bin, and found 6 small things to throw away or put away.
Today's micro-project was super satisfying (not to mention a good way to stretch a little and get into a different mode after lots of computer time). It will be my new strategy for breaks from this type of work - or maybe even for times that I just don't feel like cleaning anything. 10 things isn't many, but it makes a difference. And at the end of my 10 things, I absolutely could have kept going. It's parallel to getting yourself out for a run - I used to make the deal with myself that I was allowed to come home after 1/4 mile if I wanted to, but I had to get out and go that far. Invariably, by the time I got out the door and got moving, keeping going was no problem.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Bedroom-cleaning mini-projects
Okay, so maybe "doing little things each day" was a little ambitious. But I'm not going to feel guilty for downgrading to "doing little things some days" to make our lifestyle simpler, cleaner, and cheaper.
My best recent "little thing" was to clean off the top of a dresser in our bedroom. Based on the content of the clutter and the depth of the dust, that dresser hasn't been cleaned off in a solid two years. Findings included: a pile of items meant to go in a baby book for Josie (which may become a "little thing" in the coming weeks), 2 broken nursing tank tops that I meant to return to the store while I was still nursing (over a year ago), lots of receipts for various clothing purchases, a necklace I'd been missing, 3 candles which have now been cleaned off and moved to more useful places, my "congratulations you graduated" packet from the graduate school, a pile of congratulations cards from when I defended my dissertation, and 3 pair of truly hideous sunglasses. Whew! That's now been cleared off so that only a few picture frames (which you can now actually see and appreciate, imagine that), my jewelry tree, and a single candle sit on the dresser top. What a difference for that little area!
A few days later, I tried to use that momentum to carry over to the dresser next to it, the top of which is the home to most of my jewelry. While I lacked the time/sleep/motivation to do the thorough job I envisioned (involving a dustbuster, windex, and a revolutionary purging of 90% of the jewelry I own), I did manage to review every piece of jewelry, assess whether I had worn it in the last year, whether it had legitimate sentimental value, and whether there were reasonable odds of wearing it in the coming year. Those that didn't meet at least 1 of those criteria got the boot - or rather, the box, which was then added to the tag sale pile. I declare it a successful 30-minute project, since I got rid of over 30 pieces of jewelry, rediscovered several pairs of earrings that I relegated to the "I don't wear this much" tray 2 years ago and now like a lot again, AND finally brought myself to throw away the trove of teeny jewelry boxes that serve no actual purpose but just seem like something you should keep. Except for the box my engagement ring came in. Some things, you don't mess with.
My best recent "little thing" was to clean off the top of a dresser in our bedroom. Based on the content of the clutter and the depth of the dust, that dresser hasn't been cleaned off in a solid two years. Findings included: a pile of items meant to go in a baby book for Josie (which may become a "little thing" in the coming weeks), 2 broken nursing tank tops that I meant to return to the store while I was still nursing (over a year ago), lots of receipts for various clothing purchases, a necklace I'd been missing, 3 candles which have now been cleaned off and moved to more useful places, my "congratulations you graduated" packet from the graduate school, a pile of congratulations cards from when I defended my dissertation, and 3 pair of truly hideous sunglasses. Whew! That's now been cleared off so that only a few picture frames (which you can now actually see and appreciate, imagine that), my jewelry tree, and a single candle sit on the dresser top. What a difference for that little area!
A few days later, I tried to use that momentum to carry over to the dresser next to it, the top of which is the home to most of my jewelry. While I lacked the time/sleep/motivation to do the thorough job I envisioned (involving a dustbuster, windex, and a revolutionary purging of 90% of the jewelry I own), I did manage to review every piece of jewelry, assess whether I had worn it in the last year, whether it had legitimate sentimental value, and whether there were reasonable odds of wearing it in the coming year. Those that didn't meet at least 1 of those criteria got the boot - or rather, the box, which was then added to the tag sale pile. I declare it a successful 30-minute project, since I got rid of over 30 pieces of jewelry, rediscovered several pairs of earrings that I relegated to the "I don't wear this much" tray 2 years ago and now like a lot again, AND finally brought myself to throw away the trove of teeny jewelry boxes that serve no actual purpose but just seem like something you should keep. Except for the box my engagement ring came in. Some things, you don't mess with.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Cheap-out success stories
I'm feeling smug about my food budget this week for 3 reasons:
1) After talking with friends (who don't have kids, by the way), I discovered that we are not, in fact, the only family in the world who struggles (and often fails) to keep grocery bills under $100/week. This doesn't do anything to lower our bills, but it sure helps to feel like less of a failure!
2) That conversation with friends took place over a meal of grocery store roasted chickens, which were on sale for $4 apiece. Which we then boiled and added some veggies and rice to make a surprisingly delicious chicken soup, which we ate with those same friends 2 days later, and will freeze at least 4 servings of tonight. That makes at least 12 dinner-sized meals based on $8 worth of protein: money-saving success!
3) All that healthy domesticity is balanced out a little by this last bit. At the supermarket, I planned to grab a frozen pizza (whatever was on sale) for a weekend lunch. In our area, this is usually a $5-6 purchase. But Stop & Shop had DiGiorno's frozen pizzas at 2 for $10. AND there was some kind of special where if you spent $20 on DiGiorno's products, you got $10 off your grocery bill instantly. That means, as long as you buy 4 frozen pizzas, they cost $2.50 apiece. Needless to say, we now have a stash of frozen pizzas that will last us for several months.
1) After talking with friends (who don't have kids, by the way), I discovered that we are not, in fact, the only family in the world who struggles (and often fails) to keep grocery bills under $100/week. This doesn't do anything to lower our bills, but it sure helps to feel like less of a failure!
2) That conversation with friends took place over a meal of grocery store roasted chickens, which were on sale for $4 apiece. Which we then boiled and added some veggies and rice to make a surprisingly delicious chicken soup, which we ate with those same friends 2 days later, and will freeze at least 4 servings of tonight. That makes at least 12 dinner-sized meals based on $8 worth of protein: money-saving success!
3) All that healthy domesticity is balanced out a little by this last bit. At the supermarket, I planned to grab a frozen pizza (whatever was on sale) for a weekend lunch. In our area, this is usually a $5-6 purchase. But Stop & Shop had DiGiorno's frozen pizzas at 2 for $10. AND there was some kind of special where if you spent $20 on DiGiorno's products, you got $10 off your grocery bill instantly. That means, as long as you buy 4 frozen pizzas, they cost $2.50 apiece. Needless to say, we now have a stash of frozen pizzas that will last us for several months.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Update on the Off-Target Project: The amazing $0 balance!
Just days after I posted about our mission to stay out of Target for at least 30 days (which had actually been a goal for over a month at that point, so we're really going for 60 days I guess), I was doing my monthly credit card payment scheduling and was delighted to find a $0 balance on the Target card. Victory!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)