The Bonus Hour

The bonus hour I gained by getting up an hour early yesterday had a ripple effect throughout the day. Perhaps other factors helped enhance my productivity but I believe the hour tacked onto the beginning of the day had the greatest impact.

I'm "this close" to meeting my March 31st deadlines. Personal income taxes and GST are due April 30th. Corporate taxes are due June 30th. Then GST is due again July 31st. I'm going to start telling people I work for Revenue Canada - literally and figuratively. They are the boss of me. It seems I'm always scrambling to meet one of their deadlines and as a reward, I have a nice little sum I owe them when I file my own taxes. I work for them, yet I pay them. Something is terribly wrong here.

All whining aside, it feels good to conquer those hard things. In retrospect, the hardest part of the job is the procrastination, strategizing and figuring out my first move. Once started, the finish line is so much easier to see.

As soon as the dust clears from meeting the next set of deadlines, I should tame the beast that is my office. Piles of paper are everywhere. Unfinished tasks galore. 

It is my hope that as the weight of my bookkeeping world lifts, it will make room for me to add a dose of "living" to my life. Leaving the house. Outside contact with the world. Extending invitations. Even scarier - accepting invitations. The hard things don't end in my office. They are everywhere.

One forward step at a time. One forward step.

It is Time ...

I have become the world's best procrastinator over the course of the past many years.

There are so very many things to be done. So much I would like to have done and behind me. But there are a list of little just-for-me things I would like to do.

Oh, to take the entirety of a weekend to sift through the boxes of memories I have amassed. On more than one occasion recently, I have been reminded of a few keepsakes I have saved over the years and it has ignited a desire to rifle through my memory box to see what I have forgotten.

I want to empty the shelf of photos, photo albums, loose pictures and organize them and amalgamate them into one whole cohesive collection including the pictures and albums I inherited from Mom.

I want to take the time to cull through Mom's boxes of memorabilia. Sort, organize and decide what is excess. When we were going through Mom's collection of belongings, I felt everything was important, a piece of history and a piece of Mom. Perhaps I don't need to keep two decades worth of her calendars to hold onto a few vital dates and notations.

This weekend I wish for will spill over into days. Days on end. Days where one photograph, notation or piece of paper will ignite thoughts I had forgotten. Thus, I don't want to rush the process.

I want to make the time. It is time ...

Making the Most of the Day

I'm winning the game of "Saturday" this morning. In fact, I think I'm rocking it.

By this time last week, I had only been up and about for an hour, written my morning pages and was most likely on my second cup of coffee. The day went downhill from there. It was a Netflix marathon and a day of mindless nothingness which resulted in turning down an invitation because I didn't feel like getting cleaned up enough to go out in public. Epic fail.

This morning, I was up at my preferred weekday waking time and according to our hallway motion detector, I was up and moving by 5:19 a.m.

Early mornings and ONE defined goal are game changers for me. Today's goal was offering to give a friend a ride at 1 p.m., so everything I hoped to get done has a deadline. Thus, I accomplished more this morning than I have managed to do all week.

It is 9:16 a.m. and I have colored my hair, washed my bedding, showered and washed a second load of laundry. I have written my morning pages and completed all my word and number puzzles. I am presently waiting for a load of laundry to dry so I can head out and see if the stone chip in the car's windshield is repairable.

Car maintenance has been dominating my thoughts so I am taking one step in a forward direction. I hope they can fix the stone chip but plan B is to replace the windshield. It will cost four times more to replace the windshield but if it is necessary I will bite the bullet. The windshield is so pitted that driving into the sun is dangerous. Decision made. Second big decision is tires. I have snow tires in the garage. I was not impressed with them the first winter I drove my car. I will take these tires to my friendly, neighborhood garage, see what they advise and move forward from there. Decisions made. The goal is to spend as little as possible on this 17+ year old car, but safety is priority.

There are a few errands to be run and then a trip to the library is going to be my "Artist's Date" with myself and for myself. There is a fairly new restaurant in our neighborhood I would like to try out so that is how I hope to wind up the day. By that time, I should be open to inviting someone to come along with me. 

My mindless morning writing has made it painfully obvious what I need to do to clear the clutter from my mind. Tending to the car and tending to myself keep coming up each and every morning. I don't want to write the same pages again next week.

I love waking up to a Saturday but what I enjoy even more, is waking up to a Sunday where all the "hard things" have been done. I hope Sunday turns out to be a day of feeling social, reading and staying away from all my bad habits that are mind numbing. One step at a time.

I love how I feel this morning! Waking up and having a plan is a wonderful thing. Feeling in control of the day feels powerful and reassuring at the same time. I don't love when my days control me. I like when I wake up before the sun and steer the day in a direction that has some purpose.

Hello Saturday, my old friend!! I hope to make the most of this day

Rekindling the Fire

I have been scrolling through this Sunday morning trying very hard not to drop down yet another Internet rabbit hole and lose myself and the day along with it. I have given myself until 10:00 a.m. and then I have made the decision to do "one hard thing" for as long as I can do it.

It is a writing assignment I started about a year ago. It was a promise to rewrite some travel journals, put them in date order and make the timeline easy to follow. The purpose was to reignite old memories, stir up new conversations and create a tangible piece of history to have and to hold.

Our thoughts, our memories and the way we retell our stories change over the course of time. There is something about taking a "snapshot" of those words written as one is living them, without a thought these journals may come to mean in the future.

When I reread my old thoughts, written as I was living them, there is something very poignant and raw about the truths behind the written word. Flashes of memories, feelings and perspective ping around within my mind and I am taken back in time.

Holding onto our memories is a gift. Having that history recorded in a journal, pictures or videos is kindling and has the power to reignite the moment.

I'm going to go "start a fire" this morning. It is my hope by completing this little project, it may be the kindling I need to finish other tasks I have only just begun.

Dragging My Feet

I am suddenly going through socks at an alarming rate. The first influx of finding at least one hole in at least one sock at the end of each and every day didn't surprise me. My mid-winter replacements of my winter stock of socks never quite lasts until spring. The timing was right.

I keep extra socks on hand, the way I stock my groceries. One "in use" product, with more "back up" products in stock. Each and every spring, I hope my winter socks will last until the bare foot season, so when fall arrives I am rewarded with the intoxicating feeling of wearing brand new socks.

With all of my socks wearing out in warp speed, I knew there was no hope of making them last. I brought out my new fall stock of socks and carried on.

Then my fall stock of socks started sprouting holes. Not only on the heels, but the toes. Not only one at a time, but both at once. What was wrong with these defective socks? Should I try to return them? This was crazy. Socks should last more than a few weeks ...

Then I had an out of body experience. I remembered asking my son if he found himself unconsciously sliding across the new laminate (or was it just me?).

I have been skating across our new flooring ever since its been laid. Then I cleaned it with a cleanser that left a residue which interfered with the easy gliding I had grown accustomed to. The floor had gained resistance to "the slide" so I washed it time and again with only a slightly noticeable difference. I was wondering if I would have to resort to sprinkling a light layer of sawdust around the floor to recreate the surface I had grown accustomed to gliding across.

I brought this dilemma to the attention of my siblings while they were here. They agreed the fault must be in the quality of the socks. Then my sister noticed herself gliding her feet over the surface of the floor even while seated. So the blame started to shift to the laminate. Aha! My son has been wearing out his socks too! I believed we were onto something.

Fast forward to the last morning of our Sibling Sleepover. My sisters were sitting in the living room while I grabbed my coffee before I joined them. They told me I do tend to drag my feet (the unspoken words were "So that must be why you are wearing out your new socks").

The mystery was solved. I went out and restocked my back up supply of socks and life moves on.

Life is like that. At least mine is.

I drag my feet at getting hard things done. I drag my feet and procrastinate on a regular basis. I drag my feet literally and figuratively on many levels of my life. Then I wonder why I feel burnt out, worn out and bedraggled.

When I pick up feet up off the floor and get things done, I have more energy, more enthusiasm and more life.

I'm not only wearing out my socks, I am wearing myself out.

It is much more beneficial to pick up one's feet, move in a forward direction and save the wear and tear on your body, mind and soul (and soles of my socks!).

Having recognized this, one would think it would be best to simply relearn to walk correctly. Me? I'm just grateful the barefoot season will soon be upon us.

I love the sensation of "gliding through life". I much prefer to phrase it that way. It sure beats "dragging my feet". Which is it? Does it really matter? If one can have fun with their flooring, shouldn't they take pleasure in the small things in life?

And does this really matter?!?

The Restorative Power of Rest

For every high, there is a low. For every burst of energy, there is a need to recoup, refresh, rest and restart. I am presently "restarting".

When I sat still yesterday, a wave of exhaustion overtook me. I overpowered that sensation and forced myself up off the couch and I headed to the kitchen to "cook" (does frying up hamburger and adding a package of seasoning = cooking?).

The reward of this act of motion in the kitchen was "taco salad". I took my plate and sat myself back down where I had previously wanted to do nothing more than sleep. Instead of sleeping, I ate.

Big mistake.

My son was actually quite pleased to find the aroma and offering of food in the middle of the afternoon. Normally, I would think eating at 3 p.m. would give me permission to skip cooking supper. Except I had already peeled potatoes so I offered to cook a late supper (second mistake?).

My son has just returned from an "all expenses paid" workshop where three meals a day were provided as part of the package. As a result of this, he has returned home with a healthy appetite.  Christmas Day, he turned down the last piece of bacon at breakfast because he wanted to be sure he would be hungry for Christmas dinner. One piece of bacon? Who in the world doesn't have room for one piece of bacon? I believe even Mom (the smallest eater I have ever known) would have leapt at the offer.

Not only did I provide a mid afternoon meal, I went through the motions of cooking a late supper meal as well.

All this time in the kitchen was a great excuse to NOT cross any other item off my mental to-do-list. Plus I was tired. Physically and mentally. I was tired of thinking, planning and doing. I just wanted to rest. Except I felt guilty for resting, so I ATE to stay awake (and I wonder why my new pj bottoms don't fit so well?!).

Fast forward to this morning.

I woke up to a brand new work week. My heart sunk to the bottom of my mattress and made it so hard to put my feet on the floor. I want another Sunday. Sigh...

Then, I flipped open my "Living Juicy" ("daily morsels for your creative soul") book. Week #1 for the new year focused on procrastination. I read the first week's worth of morsels. Closed the book. Then worked at pushing myself out of procrastination mode. This exhausted me. So why should I be surprised that the second week's focus is "napping"?

I wish I would have picked up this book yesterday. I would have fully honored my exhaustion, closed my eyes and rested. Instead I have an achy stomach hangover from eating too much. My son needed the nourishment. Me? Not so much. Nourishment? Maybe. It was all the snacking I squeezed in between the meals that hurt me.

I am not a big fan of the word "napping" but I do believe in its restorative qualities. I am not certain where I could work this time of restoration into my current day work week but as I type the words, I am hearing my answer.

I eat to stay awake. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to add those two facts together and figure out I should honor that exhaustion and rest instead of eat. I get home by 7:30 at night. If I didn't snack, I would be in bed by 8:00. What if I didn't eat, but allowed myself time to close my eyes, relax, restore and plan to get up in an hour. Then, accomplish "one hard thing" before I went to bed at night? What if????

My procrastination excuses are primarily based on a lack of time and energy. What if I created that time by feeding my body "sleep" when it was tired instead of food? What if??

My excuse is that by the time I get home at the end of a long day, my mental fatigue is high. My body is well rested and I am more tired of sitting idle than physically tired. Instead of using my mental exhaustion as an excuse to eat and Netflix my night away, I should find a way to "honor" that without medicating myself with food and sleep.

I have sleepwalked (what IS the past tense of sleep walk?!?) through most of the entire past year by using food, sleep, Netflix and surfing the Internet to dull my thoughts and put my head in a neutral zone so I could keep placing one foot in front of the other.

Food and sleep are my reward for "doing hard things" and making it through a day. I must admit I am as addicted to the reward as I am to the excuse for creating the reward to begin with.

Admitting I have a problem is the first step. I am addicted to my "numbing" activities. I am exhausted.

Rule #1 - rest when you are tired
Rule #2 - eat when you are hungry
Rule #3 - admit I am a "recovering procrastinator"
Rule #4 - do ONE hard thing each day
Rule #5 - gradually increase the number of "hard things"

Yesterday? I cooked. Today? I shall work on one project for one hour AND I will do one more hard thing. Does leaving the house count?

I need to reinstate the goal to do "Six Impossible Things Before Lunch". Changing "lunch" to 8 a.m is my obstacle. Perhaps I need to revise that to "One Impossible Thing (before I go to work)" and "A Second Impossible Thing" (after I come home).

Baby steps. One step at a time. I have SO many vices to overcome and I truly believe the weight of the excess within our home is at the bottom of a lot of what I am battling. Thus, I am starting there.

Yesterday's obstacle? The second category of Marie Kondra's steps to tidying up is: Books. I sat still with my perfectionist mindset yesterday trying to orchestrate a method where I CAN put all of the books together in one room of our home. My obstacle? I want to build these books a home for them to live, which is THE complication which has stopped me in my tracks this entire past year.

I know I should renumber the sequence Marie Kondra suggests. But I also know the power of taking that impossible "first step". I know the energy which will be released the moment I start taking action.

I need a nap ...

Accidental Kick Start to the Day

My son (who is car pooling with someone who picks him up almost every day) looked up and said, "I haven't heard from my ride this morning". I replied, "Do you need a ride?" Him, "Dunno".

I shot up like a flash, had a quick bath and was getting dressed when my son told me his ride was awake and I was off the hook.

So I was dressed and ready to go an hour and a half earlier than I have managed to force myself to move this entire week.

My procrastination skills are becoming very finely honed. That is a habit I know I should kick.

I enjoy the comfort and ease of this relaxed way of living. Is it truly relaxing though? When the to-do and should-do and would-like-to-have-done lists grow and gnaw at me, am I really relaxed?

 ...

I wrote that paragraph, stopped in my tracks, cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed the upstairs, changed out all the towels, made my lunch, checked into my son's student health insurance coverage and started the car.

No, leading a procrastinated life is not comfortable. There are always a minimum of ten must-do items on my list of things-to-be-done. The only way out of that conundrum is to DO something. Anything.

I woke up a half hour earlier. I got dressed for the day an hour earlier. I have a tidy home to come home to at the end of the day and I still have time to return bottles on my way to work.

I need to get in the habit of automatically kick starting my day. It is the only way out, through and beyond this habit of procrastination.

And I'm off...