I’ll admit it. I’m kind of a messy person. When I was growing up, I used to leave a “trail” behind me. I like to think of every piece of clothing, toy, or dish as a breadcrumb so my mom could find me. You know, just in case the evil witch was hungry again.
As the years passed and I moved from my parents’ house to my apartment I shared with Carolyn, I became better at picking up my mess, but still not great. I think on more than one occasion I walked into my bedroom with a pile of stuff in the middle of my floor after Carolyn decided she wanted to clean. I probably piled stuff in her room too when I was in a cleaning frenzy though, so it was all good.
Then I moved in with Jeff and the poor dear never knew what hit him. For the first year or so, we argued about my messes and about how I would leave piles of stuff throughout the house. It wasn’t trash, mind you. It was mail, magazine articles, photographs, just to name a few things. I would pile them up instead of having them strewn around the house. I figured if I had everything in one big pile it would be better than having twenty small piles, right?
Unfortunately, one of the places all my stuff seemed to end up was the kitchen table. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe because it’s the perfect height for me to place my bag. Maybe because I wanted to make sure Jeff saw the mail I picked up (though sometimes he’d have to dig down about eight layers to reach it). Maybe because it was one of the first stops on my way to the rest of the house. Who knows. Again, unfortunately, things haven’t changed:
I try to keep the table clear. Sometimes I go a whole month with nothing on it. Then the above happens. And then I have to spend a good chunk of time multitasking between watching Ina Garden make a “perfect” Thanksgiving dinner to share with her gays and her “fabulous friends” and sorting through the last month of my life that has ended up on my
dumping ground dining table.
One of the main things that collect around my house are magazines. And magazine articles. And coupons, but that’s another story for another day.
In the past month or so, I decided the amount of magazines in my life was ludicrous and needed to be changed. Some days I felt like they were all caving in on me. I figured one day Jeff was going to come home and I would be buried alive beneath mounds of Real Simple and Food Network magazine. The pages of Glamour, Coastal Living, and Good Housekeeping would be covering every inch of my body and he’d have to dig his way down just to rescue me.
You think I’m exaggerating but I’m not. (This, my friends, is way better than it used to be.)
Today my magazine cluttered life changed thanks to this piece of machinery.
I am not a hoarder, but I will hang on to magazines (especially ones I haven’t read) just in case I need an article found in the pages. Who remembers which magazine held that sweet potato recipe they saw months ago, though, really? I started tearing out pages of magazines that held all sorts of precious information I just knew I would need one day. Most of my clippings were recipes, but there were some exercises, household tips, travel ideas, and decorating inspirations included as well.
After clipping said articles, I loaded them into my scanner and sent the .tiff files to my computer. I absolutely adore my printer/scanner/happiness maker. Jeff pointed out I could feed the articles in through the slot at the top, which meant I didn’t have to sit next to the machine and swap out the pages one by one. FANTASTIC! Another wonderful thing about my machine is it’s wireless, so I didn’t even have to have my computer connected to it. I tell ya, I love technology.
After an hour or so, I had all my articles scanned, labeled, and sorted into folders in my computer. Tonight when I was making my Weekly Menu, all I had to do was pull up the files on my computer! I also found out my computer will let me view the files in full page mode so I can browse my folder for meal inspiration in the future! My mound of magazines is slowly dwindling, my list of recipes is growing (in a controlled, orderly fashion), and my heart is happy. It’s been a good day.