50 Days Happier: Day 3 – Back to the Wardrobe

Today I made some headway on the things I started on Day 1 (the wardrobe reduction) and Day 2 (the doggy sofa).

With my t-shirts and hoodies done, I moved onto my loungewear.  This, I am told, is the fancy term for “drawer full of sweatpants and athletic shorts”.  If you read the Day 1 post, then you know I have a bit of a problem with holding on to grubby stuff.  The problem was twice as bad when it came to my sweats and shorts.  Using essentially the same set of rules, I virtually emptied the drawer in just a minute or two.

Since I had already undertaken the project of throwing away partnerless socks, sad undies, and bras whose unwires succumbed to the mighty bulk of my breasts a few weeks ago, the dresser was complete!

I was time to tackle THE CLOSET.

I really wanted to post a “before” picture of my closet. I really, really did. But I could not.  Because it was THAT embarrassing.  I will paint a mental picture for you though.  The floor of the closet is covered by two duffle bags and some old boots.  The duffles are stuffed with clothing, though I honestly have no clue what’s in there.  There is a shelf in the top of the closet where I store my luggage and all of my pants.  The pants are “folded” and look something like a cresting wave, frozen in time right before it crashes.  When I open the door, I gently push the pile back so stave off the avalanche for one more day. Hanging on the left side are two of those hanging canvas shoe racks.  These appear to be full of shoes, though I do not really remember the last time I put shoes in or took shoes out of these devices.  Finally, my clothes are tightly packed into the remaining space. I mean TIGHTLY.  As in, there are several garments that have come off of their hangers, but haven’t made any progress toward the floor.

I decided to tackle the pants and the hanging clothing today and leave the duffle bags and shoes for tomorrow. To be honest, this wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be and I even think I’ve found some things I can sell.  My wife, who has a side-business selling vintage clothing, tells me that 20 years old is the cut off for “vintage.”  I will just fess up and say that there are some vintage items I removed from my closest that were not vintage when they went in.

Three piles are growing. From front to back: throw away, thrift, give to someone you know.

After wrapping up the wardrobe work for the day, I got back to working on the doggy couch.  I was sure that I had some leftover cans of spray paint in some basic colors–maybe white or black or gray.  I did have leftover spray paint, but the only options were chalkboard, metallic copper, hammered metal copper, and a brushed metallic color called “champagne nouveau”.  Yeah…I don’t know what happened there either. I grabbed two colors that I thought might work, but ended up going with the copper.

Though the “champagne nouveau” sounded alluring, I went with the copper.

The sofa required a little bit of taping and masking.  Didn’t take too long.  I dragged it out to the front yard and hit it with a coat of paint.

Ready for paint.

With the copper done, I turned my attention to white accents.  I grabbed a big tube of white project paint and way too small of a brush and started on the back of the sofa and the trim long the tops of the arms and the front edges. This will definitely take some more time to finish, but things are getting close. Tomorrow, I’ll finish the painting, make the monster some blankets and cushions, and post some photos!


LAST: 50 Days Happier: Day 2 – Reuse it Already! >>
NEXT: 50 Days Happier: Day 4 – Wardrobe Accomplished >>


50 Days Happier: Day 2 – Reuse it Already!

I believe in the potential of materials. So much so that I commonly hold onto things–scraps of wood, broken furniture, discarded pallets–with the faith that I can and will make use of them. I honestly don’t find this tendency to be problematic in itself.  In fact, it’s a really enjoyable way to engage my creativity and my commitment to live more sustainably. The pile up of materials, however, is a problem. When I don’t get around to utilizing all the materials I collect, my house, basement, and back yard start looking like a workshop…or a junkyard.

Today, I tackled a project I have been meaning to work on with my stepson–a desk addition to the loft bed I built him a couple of years ago.  Miles has been slowly earning components for a custom built gaming PC (sort of a motherboard for good grades scheme).  All of these computer parts have just been siting in a pile. By building the desk, we’re not only getting rid of some back logged building materials, but also decluttering a corner of the house.

The desk plan (snuck a summer math lesson about right triangles in there)

Ever in search of educational opportunities, I had Miles help me to take measurements and draw up a plan for two triangular brackets and a custom fit desktop.  A couple hours, breaks, and snacks later, we finished.

We’ll be cleaning it up and adding some details, but the new computer desk is more or less complete.

After looking at the scraps from the desk project, I decided to start another project that I have been thinking about for a long time.

Scraps from the desk build.

I have an amazing dog who happens to be elderly and paralyzed from the middle of his back down. When he’s not in his cart or my lap, he spends a lot of time on the couch in the living room. This is non ideal for a couple of reasons. A fall off the couch would be really dangerous for him. Our family likes to use the couch and he takes up a remarkable amount of space for a 10lb dog. And, as you can imagine, he’s not the most “continent” animal in the world.  For whatever reason, sitting on the floor doesn’t work for my little guy either.  I suspect it’s something about lines of sight or fear of getting trampled. Whatever it is, the floor gives Kielo massive anxiety.

I have long had the idea to make Kielo a small little personal sofa  for the living room, and saved a piece of a old, broken knock off mid-century end table just for that purpose.

This used to be one of those two-tired end tables.
As you can see, it’s not the greatest condition.

I cut the scraps to size and added them to the side of the table as arms or guard rails for the little man and then headed down to the basement to find a piece of scrap to use as the back.  For all the random crap I had down there, there weren’t a ton of options.  I ended up grabbing a left over piece from when I build a triangular shaped corner cabinet for my computer.

Used this piece of scrap wood for the dog sofa back.

Everything went together pretty smoothly.  Tomorrow I am going to rummage through the spray paint in the basement.  Hopefully there’s something I can hit this with that will look nice with the living room (at least nicer than this scrap wood collage).

Now all it needs is a coat of paint and some blankets and cushions.

Though the custom doggy sofa is far from done, I couldn’t resist giving it a little trial run.

It looks like a throne because it is.



LAST: 50 Days Happier: Day 1 – Baby Steps >>
NEXT: 50 Days Happier: Day 3 – Wardrobe Continued >>

50 Days Happier

Tell me if you’ve heard this one.

The sun is rising or has already risen.  You are laying in bed having woken up later or earlier than you intended.  You know from the outset, that this will be “one of those days.”  You will be stuck in your head, moody, withdrawn or more clingy than usual.

Beyond the basics of dressing and eating and voiding, the only thoughts your mind seems to be capable of wrestling with are huge ones: Am I happy? Am I living the life I want to live?  Why are the answers to these first two questions, No?

Maybe minutes or hours later, you realize that you have done this before. The mood, the questions.  The long and convoluted series of partial answers that you are, have been, grappling with are all familiar–the compulsion to make to-lists, or art projects, to clean or meditate or exercise yourself so that you can shake this feeling.

Eventually, you find the right thing.  It is a distraction, but practical or positive enough to pass for productivity and it gets you through the day and onto the next, when you are more yourself and the existential crisis that buried you eyeball deep in dissatisfaction is forgotten.

I had this day yesterday…again. Except this time I am making an effort to change how the day ends.

Dreaming of Self-Sufficiency

I am an ardent dreamer, though my dreams are rarely of the fantastic variety. Even when I am unconscious, my “dreams” tend toward the aspirational definitions of that word. When I dream, I shape goals, explore possibilities, test scenarios, and solve problems.  Most of these dreams are related in some way to my ongoing vision of a “perfect life”. This is a life in which I am fulfilled, a life that I know without question is meaningful.  This is a life that makes use of my intelligence and skills and creativity and challenges me to continue to learn and grow.   This is a life in which my ideals and ethical commitments are consistent with my actions and in which the relationships I keep are nurturing. This is a life in which I do not want or need or crave, but sustain and provide and and relish.  Most of all, this life one that I have made, will make, with my own hands and heart.  It will fit me…perfectly.

Though I think the description doesn’t really suit my dream life, “self-sufficient” is the best I can come up with.  I want to live within my own means, by my own terms, without debt, and without taking an undue ecological toll on my habitat. To a large degree, my interests and hobbies and passions plug into this vision.  This is something I am, for the most part, proud of.   I brew my own beer, garden, knit, and make things from discarded materials because these are activities that make me happy and feed the vision of the life I wish I were living.  I compulsively read about tiny houses, lifehacks, skoolies, and minimalism because these are examples of other people, in other places making the things I know I want for myself work.

And this is where the problem starts. Because in compulsively looking to the material artifacts left by other peoples’ lives, you inevitably begin to question the conditions of their making. And there, you can find a lot of places to make excuses.  You compile long lists of excuses.

These people are young and unattached, without major commitments or children.  These people don’t have crippling debt. They have savings  accounts and inheritances.  These people figured it out so easily, they didn’t have to wander around the country collecting degrees until they figured out what they wanted to do with themselves.  These people have spouses and peers and people around them that want to help them realize their dreams–want to dream with them.

inevitably, from these excuses comes resentment.  A silent and simmering anger toward everyone and everything you perceive to be keeping your dreams firmly moored in the abstraction, of futurity, of fiction, that maybe bubbles up here and there as frustration or annoyance, and sometimes boils into full-throated arguments about nothing important at all.

Did you see that?

I slipped back into writing about the hypothetical “you”. The “all of us”.  Let’s be honest, I am talking about me and no one else.

What it Boils Down to is This

If you strip back all of the psycho-emotional hooey, the reasons for my feelings of dissatisfaction are simple.  The life I envision for myself–the perfect life–is one of relative simplicity, tight curation, sustainability, and adaptability.  The life I am currently living is in no way unenjoyable or unfulfilling.  But, it is filled with unnecessary complexity, it is haphazard and unorganized in places, excessive, and (perhaps most anguishing) entirely static.  Where I imagine streamlined processes and spaces, I see layers of figurative hurdles and physical clutter.   I imagine all things in their right places, a beautiful expression of form and function.  Instead, I see scores of objects in purposeless limbo waiting for the spark potentiality to make sense of their existence.  The spark rarely comes.  Where I imagine the ability to adapt, change, and travel as my life evolves, I feel trapped physically and financially for no really good reason I can name.  All of this is to say that there are too many things about the way I live my life (and the material expression of that living) that make me unhappy.

Deciding to be 50 Days Happier

Rather than focusing on all the reasons I feel stuck or why I cannot achieve the ends that I think about so often about,  I have decided to focus on the things that I can do and trust that they will make me (at least incrementally) happier. Self-work (sadly) isn’t something I have a ton of time to do during the academic year, so I have decided to work with the time I have left this summer, roughly 50 days.

I have decided to give this effort, which I have glibly coined the “50 Days Happier” challenge, a couple of ground rules.  They are:

  • Be firm, flexible, and kind to yourself.
  • Let joy lead the way by allowing the question, “does this make you happy?” to be the ultimate decision maker.
  • Use this opportunity to determine what is truly important and what you have been holding onto for less productive/practical/fulfilling reasons.
  • Use this opportunity to bring your actions and physical space in line with your dreams and intentions.
  • These are your strategies–purge, reduce, simplify, organize, recycle, and complete–use them in that order.
  • Be intentional and self-reflexive. The process is what counts.


NEXT >> 50 Days Happier: Day 1 – Baby Steps