One of the things about me and moving is that I will work obsessively for the first few weeks, unpacking every box, getting pictures hung, furniture in place, etc. Part of this is that I am an incurable klutz and having things not in a proper home means injury to me. Part of it is that I am a neat freak. But either way, I have this massive first push. Then I don’t feel like doing ANYTHING for a few months.
I’m starting to get past that point. Over the weekend I finally got curtains hung in the guest room, the mirror hung over the dresser, the shower door in the master bath caulked (apparently none of the previous owners thought to do this over the last 8 years since the house was built), a new towel bar hung, the wall where the old towel bar was patched, and a good deep clean done. All small things that mostly didn’t take long. Then there was furminating the dogs and giving them baths (long overdue), which took much longer. And baking.
The remaining projects that need doing are a bit more involved. I’m mentally girding my loins to tackle painting the guest room this weekend (yes, that would be where I just hung curtains–sue me, I wasn’t planning to paint when I did that) because it’s a long weekend and one small bedroom won’t actually take that long. And that’s one big thing off the list.
The kitchen will still need painting, as will the man cave. And we’re still sorting the garage (which would be helped tremendously if someone would simply BUY THE FRIGGING SOFA that’s taking up my parking space). And God knows, we need to finish weeding and remulch all the flower beds (which is about 4x the mulch we had to use at the last house). And paint and install the new closet doors we bought, oh, two months ago? Yeah. It’s a process.
The whole thing has me thinking about how productivity kind of goes in waves for me. Whether it’s physical activity or projects around the house or writing, there are certain times of day, certain times of year when I’m simply much more productive. Which is, I guess, saying something, since on my average day I tend to accomplish more than many people do in a week. That there are fluctuations makes sense, I suppose. That kind of peak productivity simply isn’t a sustainable level. There is a season and all that. Or maybe it’s biorhythms or something. Either way I’m gearing up to get going on things again, and I’m hoping I see a concurrent rise in productivity on the writing front.