My weekly calendar has a little section at the bottom where I write things I plan to get done during the week that aren't assigned to any specific day, and I've transferred the same eight tasks for several weeks now:
- Get estimates for installing porch railings (requires measuring front steps, which I forget to do [and at the moment, I'm wearing a nightie and no shoes, my frequent daily uniform] and making phone calls to strangers, which, HATE)
- Rent electric hedge trimmer (the neighbors and I have agreed to clip our side hedges down to 3'; requires making phone call, which, HATE, and then, of course, actually doing the work, ugh)
- Clean up side yard (yard work, UGH)
- Call driving school about Mimosa's lessons (phone call, HATE)
- Organize big boxes of personal papers into files (this will actually be a fun job, but it's huge and seems less urgent than the other tasks; plus, it's in the basement so I don't see it and therefore forget about it)
- Edit chapters and send to my writers group (writing = hard)
- Clean bathtub (worky)
- Read How to Pay for College Without Going Broke (I've actually read it, but now I need to type up the big learnings from all the pages I put post-its on)
. . . and none of it gets done, and those bricks have been sitting there for three weeks now.
I just feel tired and overwhelmed all the time. SUCH A LOSER.
Then I ran across this passage written by Arwen at the ABC Family blog:
We went on a weekend trip in October, came home to a broken dishwasher and stacked our duffel bags in the hallway. Over the following days I managed to empty the bags, but still they sat in the hallway. Every time I passed them, I berated myself. I get nothing done around here. It's such a mess. Those should have been put away a long time ago.
Never mind that every time I passed through the hallway I was either carrying a baby or rushing to tend to one. My self, harsh critic that she is, cares not for such details. She just wants me to get it right. Every. Single. Time.I really love this! NEVER MIND that during the weeks I've been transferring the Eight Tasks of Hellishness, I've been parenting my children, keeping the house clean, cooking meals, editing like crazy (multiple clients! pressing deadlines!), listening to Husband, chauffeuring, tracking down costume parts, signing up kids for yet another activity, attending meetings and doctors appointments and tai chi class, yada yada yada — I still feel like a failure for Not Addressing the Eight.
And also, for not losing weight — for, in fact, continuing to gain, which is making me INSANE. Husband is finally taking his blood pressure/cholesterol levels seriously and has stopped snacking and eating desserts and drinking diet soda (he's hydrating with seltzer!), and the weight is falling off him and he weighs 15 pounds less than I do. I find this unsupportive.
Ha! No, I'm happy for him, really — just deeply bitter about male metabolism.
But: I had a mammogram yesterday, and my boobs are clean and healthy, and that is what I'll focus on today.
I'm thinking that it's time for another Boot Camp, but I won't think about that right now.
I'll think about that tomorrow.
Today I will focus on finishing the four curriculum sessions I'm editing and maybe getting out of this nightgown at some point.
And maybe I'll bite the bullet and make some phone calls, just to diminish the Eight Tasks of Hellishness by at least one.
— Lady C