There are MANY things to accomplish once you’ve chaired a convention and it’s all over. Never mind the convention-related stuff; that’s a given and it will take anywhere from a day to months to get it all wrapped up. There’s thank yous to send, and generally STUFF to send out (Helen’s done most of this – tearsheets and such to advertisers, bookbags and whatever might exist of the remaining goodies to those who cancelled very late). And there are things to debate – how long should I keep the post office box open? And things to save – just in case someone might need this, right?

The truly FUN thing so far is the Ritual Throwing Away of Stuff. This is really stuff that won’t be needed. There’s tons of email to delete. Sorry, I know there are probably completists and archivists out there for whom this concept is painful, but oh MAN, getting rid of DOZENS of email messages ranging from program questionnaire responses to cancellations to banquet choices is fun. FAR MORE FUN is the physical throwing away of paper.

“Throwing away” in Seattle seldom means that, of course as we recycle EVERYthing. But taking that stack, that annoying now-completely useless pile of banquet menu forms and ripping them up and putting them in the recycling the week after LCC was, I have to admit, cathartic. Healthy. I’m not neat at the best of times, and the past several months were not the best of times. As LCC got closer, and the weather got damper and my ability to pick stuff up lessened, more and more of our furniture disappeared under piles of STUFF. NOT just LCC stuff, but the stuff of everyday life that did not get dealt with BECAUSE of LCC. Books and magazines, bills, forms that needed to be filled out and returned to various government agencies, for example. Kipple, as we tend to call it.

Everyday life went on to a great extent because one way to keep myself “grounded” when I’m feeling overwhelmed is the tremendously tedious, mundane, boring houseworky errandy stuff of life. If I’m spending 8 hours a day on one task, at LEAST the towels got clean and the socks got washed. Somehow this helps me. Even if I was having regular hotel dreams, at LEAST I still managed to get to the post office to mail out books and to the drug store to pick up those prescriptions and get that stuff the week it was ON SALE. Life went on. But it piled up.

So while it took at least a week to feel caught up on sleep, I did catch up. For one thing, I did manage to get at least 6 or 7 hours a night during LCC and also because I switched over to Oxycodone and it has made me more comfortable and I’m sleeping more soundly. But I still was having anxiety dreams – very specifically convention-related for two weeks, say until mid-February. And tentatively, my focus and concentration levels returned so that I could do more than write about LCC. I could even READ. I started actually reading books all the way through again. Weird isn’t it that I had to stop, but I really DID lose the ability to focus for several weeks. Spending all day doing LCC this and LCC that meant that even bedtime – where I cannot end my day if I cannot read – was not a time to read very much. I was doing crosswords and word search puzzles, and reading magazine s or looking at catalogues. Concentrating on fiction was just too complicated. So actually FINISHING a whole book in February was cause for celebration. WRITING a review of a book was even better; it mean I could think again, put words into phrases, and get back critical thinking that did not have to do with which ballroom was best suited for which panel, and can we afford more coffee and what do we do, someone cancelled and, whirr, whirr, whirr… No, I got to think about plot and language, exposition and sub-genres.

I was also glad that skating was televised this time of year but I focused less on it than usual. I can’t be sure why. I don’t think it was my brains. I think it was that this year was an exceedingly DULL #%^*$%^( year in figure skating. It was boring, dull, dull, dull. And no it wasn’t simply because many US skaters were not competing; in some areas, it didn’t matter a damn since the US skaters aren’t doig very well. Worlds haven’t happened yet and they still will be interesting; in pairs, I’m rooting for the Germans, although my heart would settle for a sweep by the Chinese pairs, the Japanese women rule, though I like some other skaters and yeah, sure, Evan Lysacek (or as the skating magazine called him “Even”, one of several reasons I finally cancelled my subscription to BLADES ON ICE) deserves a spot on the podium but I’m just BORED currently by the field. Ice dance LOOKS more interesting again – they must have diddled with the rules for the 3825th time. Yay.

What I did not expect however was that once I did the “tear up and toss” happy dance with these forms and those copies and extra thises and extra that, I got cleaning frenzy. This house is NEVER as clean as I would like and that’s not a polite comment like we all make, it never IS. It’s not dirty exactly but it IS messy and piled up. There IS too much dust and it IS hard to find things. So in cleaning out the files of extra LCC stuff, I got The Bug. And it’s meant getting rid of some of the hundreds of books. I’m still selling them and I still KEEP a lot of books, but I’m now on two different swap sites and I’m listing some books here to sell. And I started going through cabinets. And closets. And drawers. The other day I just decided I HAD HAD IT with trying to find out what the hell is under the sink. We really don’t NEED all that stuff. It’s compulsive enough to have that much soap. We don’t NEED it all under the sink. And what IS all that in the drawers in the kitchen? We don’t NEED all those whatevers. Dish towels. BATTERIES oh my god. Wires that connect to god knows what. Doohickeys that we brought from the east coast – a window lock, little plastic thingies. And so this weekend was “clean out under the sink” time. And last night was “bathroom drawers “we have HOW many sample toothpastes in this drawer and these pills are dated WHAT?” And it’s going to, I think, keep up as I hit the bedroom in full “I don’t WEAR THIS ANYMORE” mode and get rid of things.

I am expecting major relapses. I will undoubtedly keep things I don’t wear because they represent something to me. I have a tendency to find security/comfort/reassurance in having extras of things; it’s a “what if I can’t get out to the store?” response. Unnecessary I know, but somehow psychologically necessary. I also tucker out half-way through most of these jobs. REALLY ANNOYING. I get ALL the stuff out from under the sink and then, um, er, um, oops, there is stays on the floor because I’m too damn tired to put it back. Okay, well obviously I haven’t figured out how it all works yet.

Do you find you need to be in a certain emotional frame of mind to get rid of stuff? I have to be able to DECIDE. Primarily that means being able to honestly answer “why are you keeping that?” It took, I think I’ve mentioned, YEARS to get rid of the notes to my thesis, which I wrote in 1975. YEARS. I kept LOTS of copies of Worldcon stuff from ’89 until one day I decided ONE COPY of everything was adequate, if that. We all have weaknesses; I can’t get myself to get rid of buttons (political pins/badges/what you call them) or tee shirts very well. I have too many socks and far too much bath stuff. I have stacks of books that I can’t QUITE bring myself to decide about. But that’s okay. My rules say that’s okay. Hey, they’re miy rules, right?

It’s the stuff that should at least BE elsewhere. THAT’s the stuff that I’m working on right now. A week or so ago, I got rid of about 100 or so book mailing envelopes from publishers/editors which were usable enough by someone but I don’t NEED 100 of them. I have 25 or so and by the time I need more, I will get more books and can use those. I decided that we did not need, three sets of placemats nor do we need 6 plastic water bottles, even if they were free/giveaways/souvenir items.

When it comes down to it, it’s NECESSARY. It’s not what I want to spend my time doing but every damn day, bending over is a little more difficult and getting drawers open can be a hassle. Things stick, and if there’s one thing I don’t need to be reminded of, it’s how much weaker I’ve gotten and how much less capable I am of opening stuff. I need stuff to be easy to get to, accessible. Sure Stu’s here and can get anything I need. I don’t WANT that. I want to be able to reach, get, fetch for myself. I’m home alone a lot.

So beware flying objects. If I could, I'd post a cartoon here, but I'm not sure which one. Probably a George Booth character if you would. One of his wonderful crazed ladies, – flinging stuff about yelling “this has got to go and THAT and THAT and THIS! while the dog tries to hide. It's probably Mrs. Rittenhouse (see http://www.thenewyorkerstore.com/ and search for George Booth if you would please)