bhos
Dec 1, 2012
Undergraduate / Best Advice received? complaining about something you can control - ROUGH DRAFT [6]
REVISED! Two hours to submit
Any constructive criticism is welcome
Born in a home inundated with clutter, that it appeared as if I live in a disorganized storage unit, with all surfaces cluttered with items that had not been acknowledged in years obsolete for years. It dawned on me that the conditions that you are brought into the world are essentially the only predetermined factors in life. In an exasperated disposition I exclaimed, "I'm so tired of not having space to do my homework", as though I was entitled to such space. I am unable to recall her exact words, though my sister's response was similar to the message, "Don't complain about something you can control." This response, however not cryptic, had somehow woken me up. It was very unsettling to realize that, if I simply reached far enough, some of the solutions to my problems were actually tangible.
I immediately halted my complaints and began enlisting my unlimited resources to arrive at the most pertinent solution. The super glue and duct tape method were no longer feasible as solutions. My initial approach was sluggish, as I innately avoided all clutter with an arabesque here and spiral there, only to confide to my one haven; my bed. My research consisted of sneaking the Sunday Home Depot ads, returning them only when they appeared completely cookie-cut from the best deals. Drawing up lists of what needed to be done seemed to ebb the anxiety I felt from all the tasks. By looking at each item on it's own, I felt relieved by how manageable it all now seemed.
Revamping the house called for constant trips to the hardware store, a place I now had the urge to meander through. The employee's each had brevity of reluctance when my dad directed their attention to me; the miniature petite pre-teen girl who seemed inept to open even a lid. This was quickly replaced with a state of utter bafflement, as I proved my expertise with follow up questions stumping even them.
When the house had started to wane of all of the clutter, it was clear that the blatant the mess had fettered the whole mindset of the house. The vacant corners and exclusive spot in the garage to fit a car had become serene a sight. , with a My mom jokingly asks who or what was the culprit that spurred my 'busy body' attitude; my sister had merely suggested that I do the dishes. But that was it- those dishes were the first thing to check off of my list, and the satisfaction from doing it had created an appetite for improvement. I was no longer content by playing victim while being completely listless. Holding myself accountable before even thinking about vilifying another has evoked an appetite for self-improvement. There was nothing that fettered us to the conditions we were, or ever will be in. All I had to do was wane
REVISED! Two hours to submit
Any constructive criticism is welcome
Born in a home inundated with clutter, that it appeared as if I live in a disorganized storage unit, with all surfaces cluttered with items that had not been acknowledged in years obsolete for years. It dawned on me that the conditions that you are brought into the world are essentially the only predetermined factors in life. In an exasperated disposition I exclaimed, "I'm so tired of not having space to do my homework", as though I was entitled to such space. I am unable to recall her exact words, though my sister's response was similar to the message, "Don't complain about something you can control." This response, however not cryptic, had somehow woken me up. It was very unsettling to realize that, if I simply reached far enough, some of the solutions to my problems were actually tangible.
I immediately halted my complaints and began enlisting my unlimited resources to arrive at the most pertinent solution. The super glue and duct tape method were no longer feasible as solutions. My initial approach was sluggish, as I innately avoided all clutter with an arabesque here and spiral there, only to confide to my one haven; my bed. My research consisted of sneaking the Sunday Home Depot ads, returning them only when they appeared completely cookie-cut from the best deals. Drawing up lists of what needed to be done seemed to ebb the anxiety I felt from all the tasks. By looking at each item on it's own, I felt relieved by how manageable it all now seemed.
Revamping the house called for constant trips to the hardware store, a place I now had the urge to meander through. The employee's each had brevity of reluctance when my dad directed their attention to me; the miniature petite pre-teen girl who seemed inept to open even a lid. This was quickly replaced with a state of utter bafflement, as I proved my expertise with follow up questions stumping even them.
When the house had started to wane of all of the clutter, it was clear that the blatant the mess had fettered the whole mindset of the house. The vacant corners and exclusive spot in the garage to fit a car had become serene a sight. , with a My mom jokingly asks who or what was the culprit that spurred my 'busy body' attitude; my sister had merely suggested that I do the dishes. But that was it- those dishes were the first thing to check off of my list, and the satisfaction from doing it had created an appetite for improvement. I was no longer content by playing victim while being completely listless. Holding myself accountable before even thinking about vilifying another has evoked an appetite for self-improvement. There was nothing that fettered us to the conditions we were, or ever will be in. All I had to do was wane