It’s complicated. Whether it’s relationships, reasons for war, personalities, love, dealing with an insurance company, or following assembling instructions, things can get complicated. Unraveling complications can feel a bit like organizing the mess of wires and cords behind your computer — figuring out which one goes where and to what and especially which one is not working and why.
I’ve been on the floor behind the computer desk a few too many times of late. It is apparent that I have made life too complicated by having so many things that need to be plugged in and not enough places to plug them in. A friend said to me recently, “I just can’t figure out why all these items are necessary for living! Aren’t scissors and Scotch tape enough?”
In a continual effort to “right size,” adding more plug-ins does not seem to be part of the equation. However, when it comes to the battery-powered stick vacuum that started this cord debacle, it is my new best friend. Finding a place to plug it in was the problem.
Sweeping with a broom has been my way of life. I could have been Golde in “Fiddler on the Roof” — sweeping the empty house before fleeing the village.
Tevye: Sweep the floor?
Golde: I don’t want to leave a dirty house.
Until I met the stick vacuum — lightweight, quiet, battery-powered, single-release button to empty the dustbin, and a head with LED lighting to illuminate all the dust, debris, and pet hair that the human eye can’t see. What’s not to like? Except where to place the wall-mounted charging dock.
Running the cord to the surge protector already filled with a line-up of juice seeking plugs was unsuccessful. The only available slot was designated for another device and no live power was forthcoming. The second outlet offered a spot for my new friend tethered to an extension cord, but the block head on the plug itself was too big to share with the other plug hogs.
Frustrated, I went to the last remaining outlet which could only be reached by the charger with a mammoth extension cord either circuiting the entire room or running up and down walls and over doors. Not a viable nor sightly solution. I abandoned the project to attack it with fresh eyes and brain on yet another day.
Bingo! The solution occurred to me during a quiet, contemplative moment and the complicated became simple, too simple to repeat here. The cords could still use a massive organizing overhaul, but currently everything works. Volunteers?
As the 2024 begins, two New Year’s toasts appealed to me:
“Be at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let every new year find you a better (person)” — Benjamin Franklin.
“There comes a time in every woman’s life when the only thing that helps is a glass of Champagne” — Bette Davis.