A couple months ago, without a ton of planning, we started a remodel of our home office. We packed everything into boxes, moved out all the furniture, and started waging a war against the 30 year-old wallpaper. (We won, by the way. Eventually.) Once the wallpaper was down and we started thinking about sanding the built-in bookshelves and priming the entire space, we realized that it was early September. Meaning, it was still warm outside. It was beautiful outside. Why were we working on an entirely indoor project when we could be working outdoors? We not be so smart sometimes.
So we stopped working on the office. And we moved our efforts to the front yard. We made over our front door and porch, ripped out almost all of the ancient and half-dying landscaping in the front yard, re-leveled everything, brought in dirt and mulch, and made 284 trips to the nursery including one particularly memorable moment with a tree too-awkwardly-sized-for-my-SUV that I willed to fit anyway and made it home with only one small broken branch.
I actually ended up taking that tree back. Ha! Poor widdle tree.
We also touched up the house paint in a bajillion areas, took down two pitted flag pole holders, put up one freshly painted flag pole holder, removed a dozen mysterious nails and screws that littered the outside walls of the house, and brought in a bench and planter. After six straight weeks working on the outside of the front of our home, it looks amazing. Like, totally rockin. Fresh and clean and purrty.
Our home office, however, looks like an abandon construction site. (Pretty much because it is.) And our dining room! Don’t even get me started. It’s where all of our office boxes are currently located, now in an even bigger state of dissarry because I’ve had to break them open a dozen times in the past three months to locate this piece of paperwork or look up that one book or whathaveyou.
And that’s where I was yesterday evening, as the girls were going through their typical witching hour cycles of fussing for no reason and demanding more snacks even though they just ate and generally just trying to pull my hair out, digging through a box to try and find one piece of paper that I was fairly sure I hadn’t seen since 2009.
What I was trying to find was the acknowledgement from the IRS of the employment identification number they assigned me when I created our corporation five years ago. Amazon Payments needs it so that they can believe me and call me official and not accuse me of making up the EID that I entered into my account. And Kickstarter needs Amazon Payments to be set up in order to submit my children’s book project for consideration. This acknowedgement from the IRS was supposedly in my original incorporation paperwork. Which I know – I know – I never properly organized.
Seriously. It’s stuff like this that I think of when people are like, “What types of things do you do all day while working at home with your two kids?” How do I explain to them that it took me NINETY MINUTES to dig up this one paper that this service needs that this other site needs that I need in order to publish my book?
Anyway. I digress.
(Pretty sure this entire post is one giant digression.)
(First time I’ve ever used that word. Digression. Digression! DIGRESSION.)
(Sorry.)
So I’m digging through this completely organized box and passing over folders with old mortgage documents in them that are right next to bills from the vet from four years ago that are right next to blank printer paper that are saddled up against property tax declaration forms for Hubz’s old truck – as in, the one we sold six years ago – and as I’m digging I come across a small book. We boxed up all of our books when we started the office remodel in boxes by themselves. Book Boxes. This was not supposed to be a Book Box it was supposed to be a Completely Organized Paperwork box, but regardless, there was a book, and I was looking at it. And it was a small phamplet type book with a bergundy cover and it was filled with quotes from Jim Rohn.
Jim Rohn! Love that guy. More accurately, loved that guy. Sniff.
Jim was one of the greatest personal development gurus of all time, and that was before terms like personal development and guru were even cool.
(Heh heh.)
As my older daughter was violently unpacking a large Rubbermaid container of craft supplies and my younger daughter was stuffing a scrap of goldenrod-colored chevron fabric into her mouth, I flip open the book and read the following quote:
“I challenge you to live your life while working to improve your life.”
Isn’t that an awesome and lovely thought?!
That’s all I wanted to share with ya,
AS
I'm an author, marketer, and mommy who loves to read, write, and drink coffee. My husband and I live in suburban Kansas City with our two little girls. This site chronicles my world. Thanks for stopping by!
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