Occasionally, despite my best laid plans and good intentions, shit just doesn’t flow.
I have a routine I like to keep that makes me feel all organized and on-task, focused and ship-shape. I’ve got personal goals and professional deadlines and expectations of how long shit should take, and plans that need follow through.
I want to get 8 hours sleep and exercise at least five days a week and have a Spic and Span shiny, clean house, with freshly folded laundry that smells like baby armpit Downy, and some kind of magical, sweet and sour, wizardry cooking in the crock pot and hair that doesn’t look like I stepped out of a 1979 Pert shampoo commercial.
I want to be a superstar at my new job already, and feel useful and important. I want to be focused and razor sharp, instead of the awkward and geeky, new salesperson who spilled hot, melted Coffee Tree scented wax bar all over the wall, baseboard and floor of a pristine showhome.
Annnd who wears a black, teal and purple kimono with Oxford heels to work in minus 30 windchill and snowshower weather with no gloves and has to shovel a half a block of snowpacked sidewalk??? Me, that’s who.
I also just ate 76 cinnamon hearts while wasting precious minutes of my life playing level 48 of Candy Crush. (That game is crack, seriously.)
I’d like a Café Mocha Vodka Valium Latte now, please. Make it a double?
The truth is I’ve been distracted, out of focus, and pre-occupied for about 6 weeks now.
(Here come my excuses…)
I got sick before Christmas, travelled over the holidays, started a new job only 4 weeks ago (in a completely new industry from anything I’ve ever done before), 3 out of 5 of us have had the flu, we lost dad two weeks ago, I’m a volunteer for major event that finishes next week, am still providing some support to my old job, am contracted to do some design and ad sales (that I could give up anytime), have a 4 month old pup that requires the supervision equivalent of having a two year old and we’re in the middle of home renovations. Last night I painted a bathroom. (Did I mention I spent 2 days this week in bed with fever and chills? And it takes a lot to bring me down.)
Big fucking boo hoo.
It’s all stuff I’ve done to myself.
Said yes to.
I don’t even BUY scented fabric softener.
And the key to 8 hours of sleep is shutting Sons of Anarchy off before 11 o’clock.
How many mornings have I laid in bed and consciously decided it was too cold to get up?
I have fucking command start. And own pants.
It’s okay that the kids had weiners and beans for supper instead of salmon and roasted brussel sprouts and sweet potato?
I have no answers for spilling the wax, that was just dumb.
I felt like a five year old.
Crazy big expectations occasionally make me big crazy.
I either need to lighten up, or quit bitching and rise above my excuses.
And delete Candy Crush immediately.
Sometimes I flail around.
But when I do, I’m the best at it.
“Always Do Your Best. Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse and regret.” Don Miguel Ruiz