#194 - Let's Play A Game Of Musical Chairs

I don't know whether it is a shared restless spirit or spirit of adventure or simply a function of human nature, but every so often we decide to change things up a bit in our house. Of course, sometimes these changes arise out of necessity, such as painting the exterior or putting on a new roof. At other times, it might happen simply because one or both of us gets a burr in our behind.

Such was the case this weekend when my wife and I decided to swap offices — again. We live with one child in a four-bedroom house. Because we have so few visitors (perhaps a half-dozen in the 12-plus years we've lived here) we decided to convert two of the bedrooms into personal offices.

During our time in this house, each of the three non-master bedrooms has been utilized as an office. This time, rather than involve our son in this musical chairs routine, we simply flip-flopped the two existing offices.

Fortunately, we decided to swap desks as well, which made the switch a little easier. Still, changing offices is a chore. There are seemingly hundreds of bits and pieces to move, not to mention a dog who likes to be in the thick of the action. I'm sure he thinks he's supervising.

Each time we attempt something like this, we try to look at it as an opportunity to weed out things and papers we no longer need or want. It is also a good opportunity for cleaning and dusting, two activities I'm sure rank high on most people's lists of things to do.

Needless to say, when you have two independent thinking people going through the same bits and pieces, finding agreement is sometimes easier said than done. Emotional attachments, fear of being audited, a certainty that one of us will use that thingamajig one day. All of these come into play.

As I write this, I'd estimate the level of completion at somewhere between 60 and 70-percent. The computers and desk chairs have been swapped, along with most pictures and a few of the knick-knacks. Papers and assorted bits and bobs remain to be moved, plus there is still the process of getting things organized, put away, set up, thrown away, given away, etc.

Right now, we have things organized enough for us to each use our computers, which is a sort of moral victory in and of itself. I suspect the rest of the process will take longer, simply because there are so many little things to move and deal with but also because next up on the project list is organizing our son's bedroom, a task I would not wish on my worst enemy.

#180 - It's The Little Things

It's a Sunday morning, and I'm waiting for the day's NFL playoff games to begin. At the moment, I'm sitting at my desk and looking around at stuff, lots of stuff and clutter. It seems there is no end to all of the stuff we possess.

Several months ago, we began trying to de-clutter and downsize. We made some progress, but it seems for every thing we get rid of we obtain two or find two that we can't yet part with. On my desk are 3.5-inch floppy disks (anyone remember those?) from 15 years ago, dozens of them. The plan is to dispose of all of them, but I first have to go through them one by one to see if there are any files we need to keep or want to save. No wonder we can't ever seem to make much headway.

My son like to make things out of paper and draw different things on paper. From time to time, we have made him go through his collection and get rid of some of his creations. We've tried to put in place a rule that each time he makes something new he must dispose of something he'd made previously. That effort has met with limited success, and I suspect if I were to look in his bedroom closet I would find shelves filled with his paper creations.

My wife has a box of textbooks from her college days years ago, and I have numerous books I've acquired over the years, many of which I will likely never get around to reading. Yet I have kept them - just in case. Over the past few years, we have disposed of perhaps a few hundred books, yet it seems new ones grow to take their place. It's as if the old books left seeds behind from which new books sprouted.

Aside from a few hundred albums (remember those?) and the necessary stereo on which to play them, I didn't have a lot of stuff as an adolescent or a young adult. Perhaps that is why it later became so hard for me to get rid of things or why I began to accumulate so much. Then again, perhaps that is the true definition of "the American way."

We work hard to make money to buy stuff which we then trade in for newer stuff, bigger stuff, more expensive stuff. Many of us immediately had to have the new iPhone 6 when it came out, even though our iPhone 5 was still perfectly serviceable and likely better than most other cell phones available. Or maybe it was a need to replace a perfectly nice 42-inch television with a 60 or 72-inch screen because we bought into the marketing that says bigger and newer is better.

The indoctrination process began early for most of us, with commercials on Saturday morning television and colorful Sunday newspaper advertising inserts. Those who are much younger may have escaped some of that but were instead influenced by ads on websites, by their friends, and perhaps worst of all, by their own parents who rushed out to buy the latest in technology, home entertainment, transportation, fashion, etc.

Children do indeed learn from their parents, but what are we actually teaching them? In many cases, we are teaching them to be good and dutiful consumers, which no doubt is exactly with the marketing people want us to teach. What do we want?

As we get older, it gets ever harder to get off the consumption train, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. I am not suggesting people stop buying stuff, but perhaps we can learn to be more discerning in our purchases and even learn not to throw away things every time a new version comes out. The environment will no doubt stay cleaner; our landfills will last much longer; and who knows, our children might one day thank us.

#117 - Bad Day at Black Rock

Today, I still have a job. At least nine people I know or deal with from time to time do not. There may be others who have not yet been able to say anything.

Today, the company I work issued a statement announcing hundreds of people will be let go "in order to help us be more competitive." Although I suspect this has been in the planning stages for some time, the execution (somehow an apropos word) seems to better resemble a Chinese fire drill or the final stages of a going out of business sale. (Everything must go! No reasonable offer refused.)

I say that because the announcement was made today, those affected were told today, and the each of them will be out of a job February 29. Not much time to polish up the ole resume or begin cold-calling to find another position. Thank you for your dedication and years of service. Don't let the door hit you in the you-know-where on your way out.

People at my job level were told their positions are safe. In this day and age, when neither companies nor employees need feel any loyalty to the other, I'm not exactly sure what "safe" means. I guess today, it means I still have a job. Tomorrow, who knows?

This is at least the third reduction in force I've experienced in the last three and a half years with this company. I suspect it won't be the last. The first time, I was directly affected, as my position was outsourced overseas. The other times, I knew people affected. Next time, maybe it will be my turn again.

You know what, though? While I am angry about the events that unfolded today, I am not worried about what tomorrow will bring. The sun will rise (even if I don't see it behind the clouds) and life will go on. A wise man (and former co-worker) once told me "I work to live. I don't live to work." I hope one day to achieve that level of wisdom. In the meantime, however, I won't sweat it. Worrying doesn't do any good anyway.

#71 - Working Toward Simplicity in a Complex World, Pt. 2

In my last entry, I wrote of our desire to one day sell the house and move from 2,000 square feet to roughly 300-350 square feet. Accomplishing that will mean ridding ourselves of stuff: things we have accumulated over the years out of desire, perceived necessity, or perhaps because of some empty place inside that we want to fill.

So that means downsizing, which means ridding ourselves of most of our books (I'm keeping my America's Test Kitchen Best Recipes cookbook, though), figurines, furniture, large tools, even some of our clothing. Yet, if the last several months are any indication, I don't think we will feel deprived.

When we take the trailer out, we simply do not have room for everything we seem to need in order to live our lives at home. And I don't think we miss it. In the trailer, we have places to sleep, places to sit and read or watch movies, a kitchen, and a bathroom with a shower. Simple yet adequate.

We also have the capability to sit or cook outside. And when we do sit outside, we have the prospect of a different front (or back, depending on your perspective) yard every time we go on an outing. While not as landscaped, these yards usually surpass anything we would see at our own home, and we don't have to do yard work!

In addition, we usually eat better, sleep better, and get more physical activity when we take the RV out than we do when we stay home. Not only that, but I'm convinced we use fewer resources during a weekend in our fifth wheel than we do during a weekend at home.

Showers in particular use much less water, simply due to the fact that the hot water heater only has a six gallon capacity, requiring conservation and a little planning. We also use less water when we do dishes. And because our trailer is 30 amp, we use less electricity simply because we can't plug in and run everything at the same time.

The fact that Teresa and I both have a bit of a nomadic spirit helped us to gravitate toward the idea of the full-time RV life and made the idea of living in a fifth wheel or a motor home seem also a no-brainer for us. The fact that we have become a little less materialistic as we get older also helps.

Money (and caring for Christopher) may dictate when we can make this transition from a sticks-and-bricks (as full-time RVers refer to houses) life to RV living. I'm confident that no matter how much money we have or don't have, we will find a way to make the move. I've read too many stories about people from all income levels who have made such a move to doubt that we can do it, too. When the time comes, I know we'll be ready. now to start packing those boxes.