My life has become a mad rush of logistics and cleaning.
I'll admit that most of time I'm a lazy fellow. I like to be lazy. Laziness is a virtue. Perhaps I'm a bit too lazy under normal circumstances.
When faced with a crisis, though, I'm anything but. I turn into Mr. Logistics. I take my one super power (the power of organization!) and put it to good use.
This is why I loved working in food service. Sure it was a dirty, exhausting job, but it was a job filled with constant time pressures and infinite variety. Most of the time — especially when waiting tables — I had to operate in crisis mode, working from a mental queue of important tasks. Waiting tables is all logistics: table three needs water, table twelve needs its bill, table twenty-two's food should be up in the kitchen, the ranch dressing on the salad bar is low, someone needs to brew more coffee, and damn it! isn't it time for my break? I loved food service.
Major projects — like buying and/or selling a house — bring me a similar rush, allow me to sink into Logistics Mode. Ten years ago, when we bought our current house, I had pages of notes. For example, when we learned we had to re-roof before closing, I made a spreadsheet and called twenty different roofers, cross-referencing lead-time, cost, etc.
This time, I have a notebook that is already growing fat with information on both houses. I have a section for the purchase contract (and related documents), a section on financing, a section on the move-in party (projected date: Saturday June 20th — mark your calendars!), a section on redecorating, etc. I've drawn up a list of things we need to do before we sell our house. I've assigned each task to Kris or myself, and set a time by which it needs to be completed. I'm exploring three different financing options at the same time. We've already hauled three vanloads of boxes to our storage facility.
Now, though, I'm faced with the biggest logistical challenge of my career.
We're having the carpets cleaned tomorrow. We just learned about it today. Tonight, we have to move every piece of furniture from the carpeted areas of the house to the non-carpeted areas.
Then, once this Herculean task is complete, we need to somehow confine the cats away from the carpet for two days.
I can't even think about this project. When I do, my heart sinks...
I amuse myself when I am in Logistics Mode. Normally, Kris is the industrious one around the house and, as I'm lazy, she has many (valid) complaints about how much I contribute to the household.
When I'm in Logistics Mode, things are reversed. I look at the immense quantity of stuff I accomplish in a day, and then I look at the small amount of (much-appreciated) stuff Kris accomplishes, and I feel a little resentful.
This resentment doesn't last long, though. I soon remember that I'm in Logistics Mode less than once-percent of my life. The other 99% of the time, Kris is the one feeling resentful (and rightly so).
On this day at foldedspace.org
2005 — T-Ball My nephew, Michael, is six years old. His father, Tony, is coaching Michael's t-ball team.
2003 — Asia Before my love affair with U2, I had a fling with Asia.
Ah, JD, you're a man after my own heart! I knew there was a reason I liked you besides all that high school poetry stuff.
I, too, thrive and enjoy being in Logistics Mode. I know what you mean about working food service, I had the same experience.
Very best of luck with all the new-house-related activity. I am so excited for you and Kris. As much as there is to lament about all the moving and re-settling I did in my life, I must admit that I love the thrill of starting anew, especially when it's something like buying the perfect house as opposed to the "A tornado just tore through the neighborhood and wrecked everything" kind of starting anew.
I look forward to reading more details and living vicariously through you during this process!