It feels like I'm living my life without a plot line. One day is very much like the next with little to no variation in evening and/or weekend activities. Honestly? If I didn't have to work on Saturdays, I would probably have no drama in my world.
Contentment is a very good way to live a life but without the highs and lows, contentment takes on the essence of a low grade feeling of "nothing".
I don't even have the desire to rock the boat and plan something. I don't want to add anything new to what is working so well. I don't want to renovate, replace or buy anything. I am quite happy with everything we have.
Our little black cats bring such joy into my small little world. Yesterday, I nestled into my bedroom and spent the day there. Our cats were more than happy to join me and my son popped in from time to time and we had several short little chats. I read a book, I watched a movie, I turned on the TV and then I read some more.
Every now and again, I'd look up and watch the cats sleeping. One was stretched out on his side of my bed, the other was sleeping beside me with one paw outstretched so he was touching me as he slept. Then he woke up and snuck under the quilt on my bed and slept on my freshly washed sheets before I did.
It was a zero activity, zero drama, no computer, no communication kind of day. And I liked it.
I woke up this morning and had absolutely nothing in my head. I think I may have stopped thinking. I do believe most people would call my life boring. I may tend to agree but I don't have the gumption to do anything about it.
I feel like my life needs a new author. Someone to come in and shake things up just a little bit. Maybe add a new character or two. Maybe a social life? Some extracurricular activities would probably be good for my body and soul. I just don't have the drive to change a thing. I like where things are at.
What did I just write last week? Something to the effect of "If it works, don't replace (or fix) it". This works. I'm not going to mess with it. I'll just enjoy this little piece of quiet and serenity for as long as it lasts.
Monday, January 18, 2016
Friday, January 15, 2016
If it Works, Don't Get Rid Of It
The Great Purge of 2015 began in April. I painstakingly went through our kitchen cupboards and cleared out what I deemed to be unnecessary at some point during the Easter long weekend.
It hurt. It was physically and emotionally draining. I brought up a big box and placed our unused items within. I told myself I could change my mind. Putting these items in a box was not a commitment. It was a step.
I placed said box downstairs and hid it within an unused bedroom. While it sat there, it gained a lot of company. The next thing I knew, the pile of boxes in my give away pile was massive. I was ready to take the plunge and start donating that which was within the boxes.
Packaged carefully within "Box #1" was my Magic Bullet. I usually have a back up Bullet on hand in case of emergency. My worst nightmare would be to have my morning smoothie all prepared and for my bullet to break down. What would I do? I would have to immediately run out and buy another bullet in order to save the day. So I keep one "on deck" at all times.
The other reason I had a spare Magic Bullet in my closet is because the original Magic Bullets were durable. The base lasted and lasted and lasted. But the tabs on the cups broke off. As it often is, it was almost as cheap to buy another Magic Bullet, as it was to buy replacement cups.
Long story short, I decided to crack open my brand new bullet and donate the one I had been using. I had all sorts of parts and accessories that came with the original bullet on hand. I hadn't used those for a decade so I felt safe in the decision to get rid of those. But the base? I had severe reservations about that. It made sense to package it up and give it all away as a package deal.
Several months after that decision was made, I finally "bit the bullet" and donated the box containing my reliable, original Magic Bullet away.
I cleaned out the cupboards in April. I had to replace the brand new bullet in July. Then again in October. And the third one bit the dust in January. I have gone through four Magic Bullets in nine months.
Kudos to Canadian Tire, I must mention. They will give you your money back on defective products as long as you have the original receipt. So the only bullet I wasn't able to get a full refund on, was the back up bullet I had sitting in a closet for an undetermined amount of time as it waited for "The Original" to break down.
Why they have changed what worked (the Original Bullet withstood the test of time, it was just the cups that needed to be replaced) and changed it into a contraption that won't let go of your cup at times (I was not the only one who had run into this - I googled it, to find a solution as to how to release a stuck cup and the forum was full of others with the same problem).
Three brand new Magic Bullets bit the dust in nine months. Three!
I didn't abuse the product. I use it to make my morning smoothie (with frozen sliced strawberries and blueberries because it can't handle the unsliced frozen fruits nor ice) each morning. Neither the motor, nor the cutting mechanism were the problem. It was the ability to release the cups which caused such grief.
Why did I continue to buy Magic Bullets when I found them to be defective? Because I (finally) had a stockpile of Magic Bullet cups which only work with the Magic Bullet. Since it was the cups that I originally had troubles with, I thought I'd stick with a product that served me well ever since I bought "the original" off of a late night/early morning infomercial ad on TV back in the early days of Magic Bullets. back in 2006. Two of "the originals" got me through nine years. Three of the shoddy imitation imposters did not even get me through one year.
Thankfully I found a back up bullet on an on-line auction site. For a mere $10.00, I purchased this little treasure along with a bag full of miscellaneous kitchen items. There is no guarantee but I can hope that it came from an era where the Magic Bullet lasted longer than three months.
And that is my rant for today.
**In other amazing but unrelated news, the cell phone I dropped in the toilet (also in April, 2015) started trying to download photos yesterday morning. That feature hasn't worked since it hit the water nine months ago.
Yes, April of 2015 was a month that seems to come back and haunt me when I least expect it ... I had a dream about Andre (aka: Senior Cat, who died in April of 2015) last night. I miss that tiny purring bundle of fur. It was good to see him in my dreams.**
The moral of my story is:
It hurt. It was physically and emotionally draining. I brought up a big box and placed our unused items within. I told myself I could change my mind. Putting these items in a box was not a commitment. It was a step.
I placed said box downstairs and hid it within an unused bedroom. While it sat there, it gained a lot of company. The next thing I knew, the pile of boxes in my give away pile was massive. I was ready to take the plunge and start donating that which was within the boxes.
Packaged carefully within "Box #1" was my Magic Bullet. I usually have a back up Bullet on hand in case of emergency. My worst nightmare would be to have my morning smoothie all prepared and for my bullet to break down. What would I do? I would have to immediately run out and buy another bullet in order to save the day. So I keep one "on deck" at all times.
The other reason I had a spare Magic Bullet in my closet is because the original Magic Bullets were durable. The base lasted and lasted and lasted. But the tabs on the cups broke off. As it often is, it was almost as cheap to buy another Magic Bullet, as it was to buy replacement cups.
Long story short, I decided to crack open my brand new bullet and donate the one I had been using. I had all sorts of parts and accessories that came with the original bullet on hand. I hadn't used those for a decade so I felt safe in the decision to get rid of those. But the base? I had severe reservations about that. It made sense to package it up and give it all away as a package deal.
Several months after that decision was made, I finally "bit the bullet" and donated the box containing my reliable, original Magic Bullet away.
I cleaned out the cupboards in April. I had to replace the brand new bullet in July. Then again in October. And the third one bit the dust in January. I have gone through four Magic Bullets in nine months.
Kudos to Canadian Tire, I must mention. They will give you your money back on defective products as long as you have the original receipt. So the only bullet I wasn't able to get a full refund on, was the back up bullet I had sitting in a closet for an undetermined amount of time as it waited for "The Original" to break down.
Why they have changed what worked (the Original Bullet withstood the test of time, it was just the cups that needed to be replaced) and changed it into a contraption that won't let go of your cup at times (I was not the only one who had run into this - I googled it, to find a solution as to how to release a stuck cup and the forum was full of others with the same problem).
Three brand new Magic Bullets bit the dust in nine months. Three!
I didn't abuse the product. I use it to make my morning smoothie (with frozen sliced strawberries and blueberries because it can't handle the unsliced frozen fruits nor ice) each morning. Neither the motor, nor the cutting mechanism were the problem. It was the ability to release the cups which caused such grief.
Why did I continue to buy Magic Bullets when I found them to be defective? Because I (finally) had a stockpile of Magic Bullet cups which only work with the Magic Bullet. Since it was the cups that I originally had troubles with, I thought I'd stick with a product that served me well ever since I bought "the original" off of a late night/early morning infomercial ad on TV back in the early days of Magic Bullets. back in 2006. Two of "the originals" got me through nine years. Three of the shoddy imitation imposters did not even get me through one year.
Thankfully I found a back up bullet on an on-line auction site. For a mere $10.00, I purchased this little treasure along with a bag full of miscellaneous kitchen items. There is no guarantee but I can hope that it came from an era where the Magic Bullet lasted longer than three months.
And that is my rant for today.
**In other amazing but unrelated news, the cell phone I dropped in the toilet (also in April, 2015) started trying to download photos yesterday morning. That feature hasn't worked since it hit the water nine months ago.
Yes, April of 2015 was a month that seems to come back and haunt me when I least expect it ... I had a dream about Andre (aka: Senior Cat, who died in April of 2015) last night. I miss that tiny purring bundle of fur. It was good to see him in my dreams.**
The moral of my story is:
"If it works, don't get rid of it!
If it doesn't work, don't give up on it.
And on a side note, love never dies.
Keep it close to you in your heart and it warms your heart and may return to you in your dreams."
Thursday, January 14, 2016
One From the Archives
I am writing over at MyKarwartha.com today. I was searching through the archives of this blog to try and figure out when I gave away my original Magic Bullet (I have gone through four magic bullets in the past nine months). The month was April. The year was 2015. I thought I'd search my archives to see if I could find prove of the date of the beginning of my Time of Great Purging. And I found this ...
http://www.mykawartha.com/blogs/post/6232134-one-from-the-archives/
http://www.mykawartha.com/blogs/post/6232134-one-from-the-archives/
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Lighting Fires
I don't seem to be able to accomplish anything lately unless I push a deadline to its extreme. Then I astound myself with what I can do in such a short time frame. I question the quality of what is done when I don't allow myself the time to finesse, edit and tweak the final product but "done" is better than "perfect". Right? Well, that is what I keep telling myself anyway.
This week has felt harder than it has had to feel. Why? Because I pushed another deadline to its limit. I finally got another hard job done, sent off and it is out of my hands. And it feels marvelous. Why in the world can't I do the same thing a week in advance? Because then I would expect perfection. That's why.
I could not put a cover on our family's "book project" until I made a deadline for myself. Once that was done, I needed a plan to accomplish my mission. Suddenly the impossible felt possible, simply because I had to incorporate the words "good enough" into my thinking.
It's hard to settle for "good enough" when you know you can do better. Thus, I think I have created a monster. The entire month of December felt like I was putting off big jobs until I had no other choice than to just do what I could do and get it done.
I put off Christmas cards and my daycare yearbook project until the very last day available to me. I threw together another project as I was running out the door. Another project got tabled until the last possible moment and it happened. I ran out of time. I couldn't even call it "good enough", I just had to call it "quits" and make do with what I had given myself time to do.
It is nothing about having not enough time. I have more than enough time. I have too much time. I have so much time I should be doing "better". I am settling for "good enough" because I don't have the motivation for more than that.
I blame one day weekends when one day is honestly more than I need when I fritter it away so completely. A one day weekend without looming deadlines is enough.
Christmas is almost three weeks behind us and I still have the feeling that I'm not quite ready for it. Last week, I finally accomplished all I had set out to do before Christmas. Now this week cropped up on me and it contained deadlines that had to be met. More cards need to be written, gifts to be given and I'm not doing "any of the above" until I have no choice to scribble words onto a card as I'm running out the door and call it good enough.
I have been setting fires under myself so I accomplish a bare minimum and call it enough. I suppose I am getting my work done one way or another. Am I proud of what I'm putting out there? No. But I'm getting it done.
I am not too pleased with this new side to myself. I'm glad to know that when push comes to shove, I can push through. But why on earth do I keep waiting until I get shoved into action?
It feels so good to cross big things off my eternal to-do-list. Why can't I get addicted to that feeling and try to attain it quicker and more often?
I guess for the moment, I won't question why. I'll keep pushing through, I'll keep setting fires underneath myself to force myself into action. I just hope I don't get burned as I play with fire. It's bound to happen.
My first step must be to simply catch myself up to where I want to be. Then I find some motivation to stay one step ahead of the game. The more I have to do, the more I can get done. Which is unfortunate because I think this line of action is what contributed to my high level of procrastination.
I'm writing in circles here. I don't see my answer. I just know I have two more cards to write, a few blog posts to update and then I'll be caught up to date. By tomorrow I should be submitting a piece of writing that has some substance. And I'm already running behind again.
And there is a minor bookkeeping clean-up task I must tend to tomorrow as well. Between working with "numbers" and "letters" I seem to be maxing out my expendable energy resources. At least that is what I am telling myself. I think my bigger problem is, is that I spend my day dreaming of the moment I get to crawl back under the covers and sleep the night away.
I don't think it is tiredness that is the factor, as much as my enjoyment of turning off my brain. I think I must be wearing it out.
Maybe I'll feel caught up by the weekend.
This week has felt harder than it has had to feel. Why? Because I pushed another deadline to its limit. I finally got another hard job done, sent off and it is out of my hands. And it feels marvelous. Why in the world can't I do the same thing a week in advance? Because then I would expect perfection. That's why.
I could not put a cover on our family's "book project" until I made a deadline for myself. Once that was done, I needed a plan to accomplish my mission. Suddenly the impossible felt possible, simply because I had to incorporate the words "good enough" into my thinking.
It's hard to settle for "good enough" when you know you can do better. Thus, I think I have created a monster. The entire month of December felt like I was putting off big jobs until I had no other choice than to just do what I could do and get it done.
I put off Christmas cards and my daycare yearbook project until the very last day available to me. I threw together another project as I was running out the door. Another project got tabled until the last possible moment and it happened. I ran out of time. I couldn't even call it "good enough", I just had to call it "quits" and make do with what I had given myself time to do.
It is nothing about having not enough time. I have more than enough time. I have too much time. I have so much time I should be doing "better". I am settling for "good enough" because I don't have the motivation for more than that.
I blame one day weekends when one day is honestly more than I need when I fritter it away so completely. A one day weekend without looming deadlines is enough.
Christmas is almost three weeks behind us and I still have the feeling that I'm not quite ready for it. Last week, I finally accomplished all I had set out to do before Christmas. Now this week cropped up on me and it contained deadlines that had to be met. More cards need to be written, gifts to be given and I'm not doing "any of the above" until I have no choice to scribble words onto a card as I'm running out the door and call it good enough.
I have been setting fires under myself so I accomplish a bare minimum and call it enough. I suppose I am getting my work done one way or another. Am I proud of what I'm putting out there? No. But I'm getting it done.
I am not too pleased with this new side to myself. I'm glad to know that when push comes to shove, I can push through. But why on earth do I keep waiting until I get shoved into action?
It feels so good to cross big things off my eternal to-do-list. Why can't I get addicted to that feeling and try to attain it quicker and more often?
I guess for the moment, I won't question why. I'll keep pushing through, I'll keep setting fires underneath myself to force myself into action. I just hope I don't get burned as I play with fire. It's bound to happen.
My first step must be to simply catch myself up to where I want to be. Then I find some motivation to stay one step ahead of the game. The more I have to do, the more I can get done. Which is unfortunate because I think this line of action is what contributed to my high level of procrastination.
I'm writing in circles here. I don't see my answer. I just know I have two more cards to write, a few blog posts to update and then I'll be caught up to date. By tomorrow I should be submitting a piece of writing that has some substance. And I'm already running behind again.
And there is a minor bookkeeping clean-up task I must tend to tomorrow as well. Between working with "numbers" and "letters" I seem to be maxing out my expendable energy resources. At least that is what I am telling myself. I think my bigger problem is, is that I spend my day dreaming of the moment I get to crawl back under the covers and sleep the night away.
I don't think it is tiredness that is the factor, as much as my enjoyment of turning off my brain. I think I must be wearing it out.
Maybe I'll feel caught up by the weekend.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Ten Minutes
I will give myself ten minutes to write before I head off and get ready for my day. Ten minutes when I have nothing to say. This could be dangerous.
My Monday felt like a "Sunday" to me. I wasn't in the daycare provider zone. I showed up. I sat still. I did my job. I took care of my little people. I was calm, cool and collected (most of the time). The day was fine. I just didn't really want to be a part of it.
My son's school called while he was on the bus, headed to school. There had been a water main break and their school would be closed for the day. I managed to reach him before he got off the bus, so he just stayed put and circled his way back home. He discovered the round trip takes fifty minutes.
He was up, dressed and prepared for his day. And he got the day off. Suddenly, that is exactly what I wanted too.
I wanted to be in the zone for a full on work day and have no one show up. I wanted to be energized by going through my morning routines, be dressed and ready to go and do and be ... then have someone wave their magic wand and say "Ta da!! You have just been given a bonus day off!"
Life didn't happen that way but I got to talk with my sister and that was good. My new daycare charge is a very fussy eater and she didn't come, so I served a lunch I knew would never go over with her - home made taco soup, all ready to go. So lunch was easy. But the day felt hard. Even though it wasn't.
It was an easy day and I didn't do it well. No one's fault but my own.
Oh well, that is the very good thing about life. If we are very lucky, we get to try it all over again the very next day.
Here's to second chances! Here is to making today a better day than yesterday! Here is to "Tuesday"!
I hope your Tuesday is what you hope it will be...
My Monday felt like a "Sunday" to me. I wasn't in the daycare provider zone. I showed up. I sat still. I did my job. I took care of my little people. I was calm, cool and collected (most of the time). The day was fine. I just didn't really want to be a part of it.
My son's school called while he was on the bus, headed to school. There had been a water main break and their school would be closed for the day. I managed to reach him before he got off the bus, so he just stayed put and circled his way back home. He discovered the round trip takes fifty minutes.
He was up, dressed and prepared for his day. And he got the day off. Suddenly, that is exactly what I wanted too.
I wanted to be in the zone for a full on work day and have no one show up. I wanted to be energized by going through my morning routines, be dressed and ready to go and do and be ... then have someone wave their magic wand and say "Ta da!! You have just been given a bonus day off!"
Life didn't happen that way but I got to talk with my sister and that was good. My new daycare charge is a very fussy eater and she didn't come, so I served a lunch I knew would never go over with her - home made taco soup, all ready to go. So lunch was easy. But the day felt hard. Even though it wasn't.
It was an easy day and I didn't do it well. No one's fault but my own.
Oh well, that is the very good thing about life. If we are very lucky, we get to try it all over again the very next day.
Here's to second chances! Here is to making today a better day than yesterday! Here is to "Tuesday"!
I hope your Tuesday is what you hope it will be...
Monday, January 11, 2016
Daring Greatly
I wasted yet another Sunday. I slept in, I inhaled my life, I lazed around, I enjoyed our cats, our home and our life. I called a friend and ate healthier. But I wasted another day. Completely and utterly.
By the day's end, I was wandering around without purpose. I was chastising myself for losing another valuable day. I was ready and needy for input. And I found it.
I watched Brené Brown's "Living Brave" question and answer video on Facebook. I was intrigued enough to follow where my curiosity took me. I was getting ready to take the plunge and enrol in her online course but wasn't quite convinced. Then I watched this video (http://www.courageworks.com/2015/11/living-brave-interview-oprah) of Brené Brown interviewing Oprah and I was in. I was in all the way.
I signed up, I ordered my books and I couldn't wait for classes to begin.
Of course I forgot all that this morning when my alarm went off. I stayed in bed as long as humanly possible and decided to save washing my hair until tonight so I could fulfill my deepest desire (to sleep longer). I wasted yet another morning enjoying lazing around with our cats who were sleeping soundly, after a wild 3:00 a.m. romp around my bedroom which lasted long enough to make it hard to fall back asleep.
When I finally got myself to my morning computer spot, I remembered this course. I had ten minutes to spare and an eleven minute introductory video to watch.
I am soooo glad I signed up! This is just what I need right now. I questioned my motives and goals as I read the questions to ponder. But the minute I sat down and listened to Brené speak, I knew exactly where I have been feeling most vulnerable and what "arena" I am afraid to enter.
The "Living Brave" class starts today. They will take registrations until January 15th. The schedule is loosely based, with three breaks interspered througout the course so those who may be falling behind, due to "life" and all its expected and unexpected demands have a chance to catch up.
It is a commitment I was afraid to make. But now that I'm in, I'm excited! If you want to join me, check it out here: http://www.courageworks.com/shop/classes/living-brave-semester.
I feel like this could shake me out of the safety net I have gotten so tangled up in, that I've been afraid to move. One small step in a forward direction and I could be off again!
By the day's end, I was wandering around without purpose. I was chastising myself for losing another valuable day. I was ready and needy for input. And I found it.
I watched Brené Brown's "Living Brave" question and answer video on Facebook. I was intrigued enough to follow where my curiosity took me. I was getting ready to take the plunge and enrol in her online course but wasn't quite convinced. Then I watched this video (http://www.courageworks.com/2015/11/living-brave-interview-oprah) of Brené Brown interviewing Oprah and I was in. I was in all the way.
I signed up, I ordered my books and I couldn't wait for classes to begin.
Of course I forgot all that this morning when my alarm went off. I stayed in bed as long as humanly possible and decided to save washing my hair until tonight so I could fulfill my deepest desire (to sleep longer). I wasted yet another morning enjoying lazing around with our cats who were sleeping soundly, after a wild 3:00 a.m. romp around my bedroom which lasted long enough to make it hard to fall back asleep.
When I finally got myself to my morning computer spot, I remembered this course. I had ten minutes to spare and an eleven minute introductory video to watch.
I am soooo glad I signed up! This is just what I need right now. I questioned my motives and goals as I read the questions to ponder. But the minute I sat down and listened to Brené speak, I knew exactly where I have been feeling most vulnerable and what "arena" I am afraid to enter.
The "Living Brave" class starts today. They will take registrations until January 15th. The schedule is loosely based, with three breaks interspered througout the course so those who may be falling behind, due to "life" and all its expected and unexpected demands have a chance to catch up.
It is a commitment I was afraid to make. But now that I'm in, I'm excited! If you want to join me, check it out here: http://www.courageworks.com/shop/classes/living-brave-semester.
I feel like this could shake me out of the safety net I have gotten so tangled up in, that I've been afraid to move. One small step in a forward direction and I could be off again!
Saturday, January 9, 2016
The Holiday is Over
It came on like a low grade fever. It started Thursday. As I wondered where my energy and my "happy" went, my brain started counting down the days to the weekend. "I have to work Saturday. And for every Saturday (and possibly the odd Sunday) until the end of time ..."
The truth is quite a stretch from the way my mind dramatized that statement. Yes, I have to work on Saturday. Yes, there is the possibility I may have to work a Sunday to make up for taking last Saturday off. And the structure of my Saturday employment is fairly loosely defined - severe weather conditions and flexibility to change a work day is a constant. But the truth is, that I feel like I'm committed to this sixth day of work until the end of time. But I'm not. I just can't quit. That is all.
The mere thought of that commitment shuts me down. If I could work this day and still have a two day weekend at the end of it, this wouldn't feel so heavy. If my Monday to Friday workdays were not ten hours long, maybe I wouldn't feel the need to hoard my time and energy so much. Yet I see others working harder and longer hours and days than myself and I feel weak because I am craving a two-day weekend so badly.
My holiday replenished all of my inner resources and I stepped into my daycare week with an energy, enthusiasm and enjoyment that I haven't had for a very long time. Yet I am allowing this "one day" to take all of that away from me.
Most people work out of their homes five days a week. I just have to do this "one" day! ONE day. What is my problem?! Yet I'd rather step out of my house to work this day than to have this very same work dumped on me at home. I do appreciate the fact that this day is neatly packaged up into a day away from my home and once I'm finished, I can box it up and put it on a shelf until next week. For that, I am grateful (just watch, I am going to end up bringing home some homework tonight just because I typed those words).
I have my life all neatly compartmentalized into its spots. "Daycare" is Monday to Friday, from 7:30 until 5:30 and for the most part, it consumes our entire upstairs. I have daycare spaces designated within our home, with one room for "office supplies" and a door I can close if I want to work on something that requires closing myself off from the world (I typed those words and visions of writing came to mind). And I have my bedroom "suite" downstairs which is 100% mine and no part of the daycare infringes upon that zone.
"Sundays" are very much akin to my oasis of a bedroom. Sundays belong to me, my family, my friends, projects I want (and need) to work on. Sundays are sacred. And I am at risk of losing a few Sundays due to looming deadlines within my out-of-home bookkeeping job. I do believe a line has been crossed in the sand. IF I have to work a Sunday, I need something back.
This has nothing to do with money. I'd lose that pay cheque in the blink of an eye if that was an option. But it's not. Not right now. I have been trained and groomed and trusted with this job. It is a privilege. I know this. This job is about holding up my end of a friendship which has grown out of a chance meeting with a family I babysat for fifteen years ago. This is about commitment.
I'm not good at commitment. This is the part of a relationship where I usually run for the hills. I can feel it with every fibre of my being. I am in "quitting/running" mode at the moment. I've been here before and I've pushed through. I will push through again. It's just getting harder with time.
"Numbers" are just not where it is at for me. When I look at my little offices space I have carved out within our home, I do not picture myself locked in a room working on income tax, GST returns and accounting work.
I look at this door I want to close and I feel "words". I have been shutting off the flow of words lately and it feels like my oxygen supply is depleting. I want to let my fingers fly over "something that matters". I've been writing about "nothing" in an effort to keep the words flowing out my fingertips but I can feel it with every word I type. I'm pushing this. This isn't coming freely or naturally right now.
I like numbers. Numbers make sense. I like right and wrong and black and white and balancing to zero. I find great satisfaction in solving a number puzzle because you know the answer is there. You just have to find it.
Life is not a lot like numbers. Life is messy. It doesn't make sense. There is a sense of right and wrong within every decision, it is a bazillion shades of gray and the only thing we know for sure is that our lifespan is a limited time offer. There is a puzzle and a story within every person you meet. You just have to seek it out.
I want to immerse myself in "life" and stretch my mind and my horizons. I'm getting itchy feet because I know I've stayed in this quiet little safe spot long enough. It is time to reach out and broaden my view. But I feel the constraints of my heavily committed week reining me in. Is there a way I can have it all? Maybe not. But I can search for ways to strive for "more".
New years don't elicit a need to set resolutions, but there is something symbolic about that fresh new calendar that is speaking to me this year. It is saying, "Make me interesting!" "Try something new and scary that makes your knees shake!" "Think outside your house!" "Live more, fear less!"
I feel something stirring within. But it comes with the feeling that I have to let something go in order to make room for more. Maybe it's time to clean out a few more closets. Tomorrow. Because today, I must go play with numbers, balance to zero and make sense of something tangible.
This is real life. The holiday is over. It's time to shake myself off and make the most of the time I have before my next holiday...
The truth is quite a stretch from the way my mind dramatized that statement. Yes, I have to work on Saturday. Yes, there is the possibility I may have to work a Sunday to make up for taking last Saturday off. And the structure of my Saturday employment is fairly loosely defined - severe weather conditions and flexibility to change a work day is a constant. But the truth is, that I feel like I'm committed to this sixth day of work until the end of time. But I'm not. I just can't quit. That is all.
The mere thought of that commitment shuts me down. If I could work this day and still have a two day weekend at the end of it, this wouldn't feel so heavy. If my Monday to Friday workdays were not ten hours long, maybe I wouldn't feel the need to hoard my time and energy so much. Yet I see others working harder and longer hours and days than myself and I feel weak because I am craving a two-day weekend so badly.
My holiday replenished all of my inner resources and I stepped into my daycare week with an energy, enthusiasm and enjoyment that I haven't had for a very long time. Yet I am allowing this "one day" to take all of that away from me.
Most people work out of their homes five days a week. I just have to do this "one" day! ONE day. What is my problem?! Yet I'd rather step out of my house to work this day than to have this very same work dumped on me at home. I do appreciate the fact that this day is neatly packaged up into a day away from my home and once I'm finished, I can box it up and put it on a shelf until next week. For that, I am grateful (just watch, I am going to end up bringing home some homework tonight just because I typed those words).
I have my life all neatly compartmentalized into its spots. "Daycare" is Monday to Friday, from 7:30 until 5:30 and for the most part, it consumes our entire upstairs. I have daycare spaces designated within our home, with one room for "office supplies" and a door I can close if I want to work on something that requires closing myself off from the world (I typed those words and visions of writing came to mind). And I have my bedroom "suite" downstairs which is 100% mine and no part of the daycare infringes upon that zone.
"Sundays" are very much akin to my oasis of a bedroom. Sundays belong to me, my family, my friends, projects I want (and need) to work on. Sundays are sacred. And I am at risk of losing a few Sundays due to looming deadlines within my out-of-home bookkeeping job. I do believe a line has been crossed in the sand. IF I have to work a Sunday, I need something back.
This has nothing to do with money. I'd lose that pay cheque in the blink of an eye if that was an option. But it's not. Not right now. I have been trained and groomed and trusted with this job. It is a privilege. I know this. This job is about holding up my end of a friendship which has grown out of a chance meeting with a family I babysat for fifteen years ago. This is about commitment.
I'm not good at commitment. This is the part of a relationship where I usually run for the hills. I can feel it with every fibre of my being. I am in "quitting/running" mode at the moment. I've been here before and I've pushed through. I will push through again. It's just getting harder with time.
"Numbers" are just not where it is at for me. When I look at my little offices space I have carved out within our home, I do not picture myself locked in a room working on income tax, GST returns and accounting work.
I look at this door I want to close and I feel "words". I have been shutting off the flow of words lately and it feels like my oxygen supply is depleting. I want to let my fingers fly over "something that matters". I've been writing about "nothing" in an effort to keep the words flowing out my fingertips but I can feel it with every word I type. I'm pushing this. This isn't coming freely or naturally right now.
I like numbers. Numbers make sense. I like right and wrong and black and white and balancing to zero. I find great satisfaction in solving a number puzzle because you know the answer is there. You just have to find it.
Life is not a lot like numbers. Life is messy. It doesn't make sense. There is a sense of right and wrong within every decision, it is a bazillion shades of gray and the only thing we know for sure is that our lifespan is a limited time offer. There is a puzzle and a story within every person you meet. You just have to seek it out.
I want to immerse myself in "life" and stretch my mind and my horizons. I'm getting itchy feet because I know I've stayed in this quiet little safe spot long enough. It is time to reach out and broaden my view. But I feel the constraints of my heavily committed week reining me in. Is there a way I can have it all? Maybe not. But I can search for ways to strive for "more".
New years don't elicit a need to set resolutions, but there is something symbolic about that fresh new calendar that is speaking to me this year. It is saying, "Make me interesting!" "Try something new and scary that makes your knees shake!" "Think outside your house!" "Live more, fear less!"
I feel something stirring within. But it comes with the feeling that I have to let something go in order to make room for more. Maybe it's time to clean out a few more closets. Tomorrow. Because today, I must go play with numbers, balance to zero and make sense of something tangible.
This is real life. The holiday is over. It's time to shake myself off and make the most of the time I have before my next holiday...
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