The other world

In which I name one omission in Marie Kondo’s work, but it’s a big one.

Gah. No I have not yet moved on to the books. I haven’t even tackled the socks yet! Currently I am in the process of rounding off two jobs, one short one but important to me, and one that I have held for a while and I want to close it off nice and proper. In the mean time, as they say, life goes on. The girls are free from school this week, for example. How very convenient, right when I need to hurry up and finish these jobs. There is going to be a lot of tv-tainment for them, I fear.

Yet, the task ahead is often – if not constantly – on my mind. Strangely enough, that is not a heavy burden. If anything it clears me of my usual feelings of inadequacy regarding tidying and cleaning the house. Now that every category is in order, I have an excuse not to attack everything at once. Not that I was ever able to do so but now the pressure is off. And that’s nice.

It feels almost but really completely not like this.
It feels almost but really completely not like this.

At the same time I notice that it is somehow easier to do things like keep the kitchen tidy, keep the hallway closet clear (flat surfaces are the bomb!) and not have a pile of clothes next to my bed. Maybe this tidying state of mind thing is working already?

But that, my dear bloggies, means that the world of tidy extends beyond my house. That was already obvious when the job went out the door, but I am actually talking about something much more mundane. I am talking about my e-mail inbox. And Marie Kondo never approached it.

There are five accounts going to my inbox, one of which is out of use. Four of them are very much in use, with my primary and secondary inbox also catching newsletters, ads and offers as well as charming, devout christian/muslim, noble/successful businessmen/princes asking me for the pleasure of having their millions dropped into my bank account. If that’s not a pick-up line, I don’t know what is.

What could possibly go wrong?

Those are easy enough to delete but then there are scores of other mails that I find harder to let go of. Friends’ mails that make me feel nice, work mails that could be leads for (more) work, shop mails that I want to check back on later. So I made folders, to be more organised. Folders are like boxes: once you put something in there, it never comes out again. I found a folder (box) marked ‘people clay’. Wait, what? Why?

I fear that another category will be added to my tidy list: mails and files.

But then I was considering setting up an Instagram account for my band of little pirates… It’s not like have any other blogs and online things to take care of…

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