Restoring Order In Chaos

Restoring Order In Chaos


Last week I wrote about revisiting past traumas for healing.
That’s been working out well. The puppy is her demon self again.

This week has been about revisiting chaos…and finding, or better yet, restoring order.
At least I’m trying. And to be fair I’ve succeeded in several endeavors.
One of them has NOT been this blog.
Holy shit on a cracker; the transfer of this blog to a different host, and the cosmetic changes were supposed to appear overnight, while most of us slept; like the Easter bunny. Sorry Thailand.
But they have not and for that I’m sorry. One email read: it was like my parents moved and forgot to tell me! Ouch. I am so sorry…….cupcake?
In hindsight, this was probably not the week to try this. Lesson learned.
Remember the post about just accepting “what is”?
Yeah…trying to practice what I preach.
Just bear with me, don’t jump ship and be a fair weather follower.

I am known for being pretty darn organized. Not like my sister organized, but close.
Martha Stewart kneels at my sister’s feet in deference.
There is a black file cabinet, in the back office that is in a perpetual state of organized chaos. You know, like that drawer in the kitchen.
There has been some denial disguised as paperwork, that has been screaming for my attention, and it finally received it this week. You know that sinking feeling as you walk by that shit? I’m determined to un-sink my life right now.
I blame this freaky energy.
Hot pink Post It’s are like 911, top priority, PAY ATTENTION TO ME NOW, don’t keep walking; in my system.
One folder that has a big hot pink Post It on it, is labeled Domaine Names.
That folder is filthy dirty and all curled in on itself, like a dead spider, after being salvaged from the water of my store’s flood. On the outside of the folder, barely legible, are all the account passwords and the nuclear codes.
I have been receiving emails from Go Daddy about the domaine names expiring for weeks. Each one escalates its urgency. Large fees are mentioned, automatic renewal, blah, blah. I don’t want to renew. Go online, right? Trouble is; I can hardly read the passwords, and they don’t work.
This is going to require phone time. With an automated system. I’d rather have needles stuck in my eye, so I’ve just walked by it…for a looooong time. Today I called and after giving my social, my tax ID number, my SAT scores and my bra size, I was transferred directly to Tad. His condescension was only exceed by Jeffrey’s this morning at my Web hosting provider, so I’m used to it. It’s like breathing air to me now, just part of life. The painful experience was over in half a second, like eyebrow waxing; aided by the fact that the credit card on account had expired. Why didn’t they just say that in an email?
Another end to THAT story.
I’m going to make a ceremony out of shredding that file.
I do that in life with things that annoy me. When I no longer required birth control, I took my diaphram out in the backyard, poked tens of holes in it with a sparkler, and lit it on fire. We have pictures.

Literally half of the top drawer of that large file cabinet is devoted to stock accounts, or should I say PAST stock accounts. I was very active in the stock market in the 90’s and it helped me buy my house. Thankfully, I was out of the market before this latest crash. I get statements from ETrade every month, which I never open…but I file them, as I have since 1995.
What I did do in August of 2001 was to create a custodial account for my nephew, who was 5 at the time. I bought him a few shares of Disney and Krispy Kreme, kid’s stuff. A month later was 911 and I remember looking at a statement and the account had lost more than half it’s value.
The next time I opened a statement before yesterday was 2008 and it looked bleak.
So, I’d just file them away, unopened. Yesterday, walking back to the chaos of the abyss, it dawned on me that he’s about to turn 18 in two weeks. In California, at 18 he can legally take possession of that money. He’s also graduating high school, and off to college in the fall. I opened the statement and holy shit, there’s some real money in that account now. I got on the phone with Hank at ETrade (passwords were obsolete from lack of use) and they’re sending a check. I toyed with the idea of just transferring the account to him instead of a check, but….he’s 18. That’s the difference between getting a polite “Thank you” and a hug. I’m going for the hug. There was also a windfall of $15 left in one of the old stock accounts, so yipeeeee, I’m rich! Drinks all around!

The ending of both of those past experiences makes me SO freaking happy.
I can crumple up that hot pink Post It, shred that file and take great pleasure in putting another nail in the coffin of my dearly departed Atik.
And that little stock account that could? Hell, it actually produced some money and my brain cells fired to remind me, all at the perfect time.

It’s been a productive week so far.
How about you?
I’d love to hear some chaos restoring stories.
Is this energy pushing you to put things in order?
Tell me about it below.



My version of life. My stories. Told in my own words.

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