I think today was a day.
Actually I’m pretty sure I know today was a day.
I hope tomorrow will be a better day…
I think today was a day.
Actually I’m pretty sure I know today was a day.
I hope tomorrow will be a better day…
I thought I was amazingly clever wrapping up my ball of new bluetack in clingfilm before taking it somewhere. No fluff. No stuck together bag. No greasy marks on anything. However. Once again I realise that some good ideas just aren’t good when put into practice. I didn’t use the blutack in the place where I took it, so I brought it home again and went on holiday. Maybe it would’ve been ok short term. Whatever. The point is, it was unpeelable when I tried to unpeel it just now. I gave up after wasting too much time on it, and now have small bits of overstretched clingfilm mixed all through the ball.
Fly lady beginner task:
“Today I want you get up and get dressed to lace-up shoes when you first get up in the morning. This means fix your hair and face, too.
In order for us to change ourselves, we need to remind ourselves of what we are doing. I did this with yellow sticky notes throughout my home to guide me through my day. This was the beginning of my home control journal. I had little notes on my bathroom mirror to remind me to get dressed to shoes.
Shine your sink before you go to bed.”
Well. I got up. And I got dressed. And made my bed. I didn’t put my lace-up shoes on. I don’t see why I should wear my going-to-work-shoes when I’m at home on my day off. I do have my ‘Hausschuhe’ on though. Literally house-shoes, they’re like slippers with waterproof soles.
I’m also not entirely sure what the good lady means by ‘fixing’ my hair and face. I wasn’t aware they were broken, and I don’t know what I should attach them to. Having said that, I am aware that she’s American, and probably means I should brush my hair and wash my face. Which I have done. I also cleaned my teeth. Actually, thinking about it, she probably meant make-up and a fancy hairstyle.. But that’s not gunna happen. My hair’s tied back out of my eyes, what more does she want?! and I don’t go in for make-up. So there. And if I don’t want to get dressed (for whatever reason) having ‘get dressed’ written on a post-it is hardly going to make me. Ho-hum.
The Zone-task, which I’m aware I’m not really supposed to be doing, is more interesting:
“Today is the day that you will spend 15 minutes in the entrance way of your home. Grab all the mail, shoes and jackets and put them away! I am always so surprised at how much stuff seems to accumulate in that one area! This is one area that when you tackle it and you are finished that you feel such a huge accomplishment because it is what you see first as you come through the door! Set your timer and ………. GO!”
Wow. Today is the day that YOU WILL …that’s pretty scary… I’d better go and do that then.
Also, Wednesday is Anti-procrastination Day – I’d better find something I’ve been procrastinating about and do it… Oh joy 😉
A new year, a new habit. Why not flying? 😉
Except I don’t mean flying in either the jumping-off-cliffs-and-flapping-your-arms-about sense, or the more civilised sense, elbowing my way through the masses of small children and tense parents into MY seat on an aeroplane. I do a fair bit of that as it is.
I mean the kind of flying coined by the Flylady, Marla Cilley. It means ‘Fully (or finally) Loving Yourself’ and is (as far as I can tell) a programm to get your house and life ‘sorted out’ without ending up a nervous quivering wreck.
The basic idea behind it (again, as far as I can tell) is that if you’re happy
and you know it, and not tired, you are more likely to get stuff done, and if you get stuff done, you’re more likely to be happy. Which I guess I agree with. She says a lot about getting rid of perfectionism, and that doing something is better than doing nothing, even if you can’t do whatever-it-is perfectly right now. Waving a wet mop at the floor is better than nothing, even if it isn’t as good as getting down on your hands and knees and scrubbing. Twice. With some kind of cleaner. And then polishing it. It’s about starting, then continuing in ‘baby-steps’ instead of crashing and burning and giving up. It’s about getting more sleep and giving yourself permission to stop rushing about finishing things before it gets to 3am. It includes motivation to cook better and excercise more which is something I struggle with, as my shortage of posts in December will testify to. It’s about attending to your own oxygen mask loving yourself first, so you can love other people.
At the end of it all, or more as a result of it all, the idea is to be a happy, rounded, fit, healthy, awake person, the sort who isn’t tired or stressed out and who has time to bake cookies and go dancing, who remembers to post birthday cards in time for them to get there, and who can invite people over at the drop of a hat because she has such a clean, tidy, welcoming house.
Not much of that sounds like me. Yet. *cackles*
– I don’t remember the last time I posted ANYthing on time, went to bed before midnight, had a tidy house for more than an evening or made biscuits (Ok. I made mincepies while I was at my folks over Christmas, but that doesn’t count). I have a huge problem getting up and to work on time. I have far less energy than I think I ought to have. I get home and can’t be bothered to cook, because I’d have to wash the saucepans from the night before first. Eveytime I want to go dancing I have a minor breakdown because I can’t find anything clean and/or presentable to wear. When I invite anyone over I have to work out how long I need to get it presentable before I suggest a day. Having cleaned like a wild thing, so that whoever’s supposed to come over can, it takes less than a week to get back to the way it was before.. ARGH. –
I found the site a year or so ago, and even signed up for it and read [some of] the emails. BUT. I didn’t ‘jump on the bandwagon’ as they say. I picked up [some of] the cooler tips (like leaving the roll of new bin liners between the dustbin and the current bag so you don’t have to look for them when you take the rubbish out), but I didn’t rush off and clean my fridge when they said “clean your fridge”, and I never really bothered with ‘decluttering’ or shining my sink.
This year… I’m going to try it out. It feels a bit crazy, and if I’m honest, a little bit like a strange non-religious cult, but since this woman, the Flylady, has been going for over 10 years and has about a million followers she must have something going for her. Besides. I read yesterday, that the best way to prove something doesn’t work/isn’t true/is stupid, is to try it out and see instead of talking about it..
So. I’m going to do it. The beginning of a year seems a good place to start and my house could really do with it. Or I could. Or both.
I’ll write the missions on here, and maybe put before-and-after photos up if I think they’re interesting.
Watch this space.
(however that’s spelled)
Move house more than once as a kid?
Have unregular mealtimes? and bedtimes?
Live ‘out in the country’?
Ever not have ‘the Thing’ eveyone had?
If you have artistic parents give yourself several bonus points.
I was witness to a remarkable discussion this lunchtime where any one of the factors above make your chances of becoming an intergrated member of the community slightly smaller than that of a colony of Giraffes moving to the south pole to chase the butterflies. (they went on to say that anyone who gets run over by a bus can only blame themselves, and that death is better than disability, but that’s not relevant to the post)
If you can tick more (or all) of the boxes, just get out. Don’t even bother looking at the drawer, never mind climbing into it. 🙂
Welcome to the world of social inneptness 🙂 Or community disability. Or something equal to horrifyingly-unable-to-fit-in.
What they said sucked.. but you know what? On balance, I think I’m pretty happy not squeezing myself into any drawer which contains people who make such statements.
(please assume all references to ‘men’ mean people)
Once upon a time there was a dirt road between 2 small villages. The villages were pretty and the fields inbetween were pretty too.
A man stood in the middle of the road, between the 2 villages. He was admiring the view.
Another man walked along the road. He stopped where the first man was standing, because he couldn’t get past. He asked the first man to move. He wouldn’t, so the second man shook his head, walked round him and carried on.
A little while later the first man grew tired of standing up and so sat down. Not long after that a third man walked along the road. He also stopped, asked and walked around. This happened many times with many people. Occaisionally someone would try to persuade the man to sit somwhere else. Sometimes an argument ensued, sometimes there were fights. Ineveitably the persuader would realise the pointlessness of wasting more time and would go on his way leaving the man sitting where he was.
The first man put his tent up in the middle of the road. More and more people walked around him. The grass next to the road soon became trampled down and before long, no one stopped to ask him to move. This upset the man. He wasn’t going to move, whatever they said or did, but they ought to at least ask.
As time went on, the first man built a house on the patch of road where his tent had been.
A new road was built around the house, so that the cars didn’t have to drive on the grass.
The villages grew bigger. They became towns. People moved to one and worked in the other. The traffic between them increased. Houses appeared close to the first man’s house.
The first man made a garden around his house, digging up some of the road to do so. When anybody asked him what he was doing, or told him not to, he shouted at them until they went away.
Later, when the road was widened, the road around the first man’s house (and his newly claimed garden) was widened too.
By and by, people forgot there was ever a road under the house.
One day, someone new came to the area with a map and a book. They walked up to the first man’s house and asked him to move, because the road was going to be made into a motorway, and motorways don’t have curves. Besides, according to the book, he had no planning permission to be there. He refused to move, was incredibly rude to the man with the map and slammed the door in his face. The man’s neighbours came out of their houses to see what was going on. The man-with-the-map told them. They laughed at him and said;
“But you can’t make him move now – he’s been there 60 years! You’ll have to wait until he leaves before you can build your motorway.”
(I was just looking though my posts and found a draft version of Wednesday’s post. I thought it was competely gone, but apparently not. Here it is.)
I don’t know why I give either as much power as I do.
Yesterday wasn’t a particularly spectacular day. As well as losing my halo, I also lost my good mood.
However, it did show me something I didn’t want to see: I am easily swayed by external influences. More so than I’d like to admit.
Why is my happiness and my good mood subject to things, situations, other people and chocolate?
Why is it, on some days getting out of bed counts as productive already, and others -like today- I can wash my hair, help out at Sunday school, clear and sort my kitchen, sort out a folder of certificates and ‘important’ papers, think about Christmas presents for people, decorate a pinboard, write 3 emails (one of which was long overdue), cook and eat, and allow myself to be tortured by my favourite ski-training-woman, and still feel like it was a very unproductive day??
Usually people turn over new leaves, especially at the beginning of the year. I’ve decided to rake up a few of my older ‘new leaves’, the ones which have fallen by the wayside over the course of the year. Hopefully some of them will stick this time round and I’ll have a headstart on next year 😉
– this practically killed me in February when I started it, but then proved to have been incredibly effective when I went skiing.
The first time I went, I skiied for ONE day and was unable to move for about a week afterwards because everything hurt so much. A friend suggested I follow this crazy woman’s regime pretty dedicatedly until I go again. So I did. For about 3 weeks. The second time I went skiing, I was fit enough to dance around the car park at the end of the second day and although everything still hurt for a few days afterwards it was nothing like the first time.. I’m hopefully going skiing again over new year which gives me 4 weeks. I think I’m less fit than I was at the start of last time, so this may prove interesting. I’ve decided to motivate myself to actually do it, by saying I can’t post (or surf much) until it’s done.
– For some reason I find this incredibly difficult at the moment. I’m either not hungry, or I’m hungry NOW but have no interest in cooking (in which case I eat something ‘stupid’ like chocolate)
And that’s it. 🙂
I’m too sleepy to write as much as I’d like to on this, but it’s been a theme running through several conversations this week.
If what we say isn’t always what they hear, then maybe what we hear isn’t what they said…….. (/what they meant)
Okay. I add ‘and of Mozilla’s moodswings’ to that.
My post was pretty much finished and now it’s gone.
The gist of it was that I am easily swayable by external factors: things, situations, people…and chocolate.
That and the fact that I spend too much time and energy trying to placate people who make life harder than it needs to be and not enough time being thankful for the ones who make it better.
[Edit: I have since found the post in question, you can read it here)
I think clean is better.
This morning, as on many others, I had to fight myself to get out of bed. It was so cold everywhere but under the duvet, and I snoozed and I faffed about and ended up running halfway to work, so as to be marginally less late. (My minutes of lateness seem to add tens of decibels to my collegue’s vocal utterings. There are mornings on which my ears just aren’t up for that kind of treatment).
Having just about made it home via an agonising process of “c’mon, you can make it to the next lamppost…and to that tree…just that staircase then you’re there…”*, I then had a bath instead of a quick shower and proceeded to completely miss the turning to my room, making a beeline for my computer desk and spending the evening reading other peoples’ blogs instead of actually going to bed (or eating or clearing up my kitchen or doing any of a number of productive things).
I got home at about 4pm. It’s now half past 1 in the morning. WHAT HAPPENED??
It’s not like I don’t have a bed. Or that the bed I have is in any way uncomfortable or uninviting. It’s a fantastic bed. The sheet’s clean and I even have a new duvet. I had about 6 hours sleep last night, and not quite 4 the night before that. The few nights before that were also shorter than optimal.. So by rights – or at least by my reckoning – I’m owed at the very least 4 hours extra sleep tonight. Tomorrow (today) I’m going to sell lunch tokens to people. That means dealing with money and giving the correct change, and that means mental maffs and would be much better accomplished with the ability to think vaguely straight. This is generally achieved by getting enough sleep.
If I know this AND am tired, WHY ON EARTH don’t I just go to bed?
The answer is I haven’t the faintest idea.
Or at least, none that would hold any water if it happened to have any poured on it.
My theory is that there must be some kind of magic woven into the words. Magic isn’t really one of my big themes, what with being Christian and all, but I can’t think of a better word to describe it. If I’m not actively choosing to stay awake (and if I am I’m not aware of it) what am I doing still up? There must be some kind of something keeping me here.
So just what kind of ‘magic’ (for want of a better word) do these blog-writers create? How does it work? And more importantly, at least for me right now, is “why am I not producing my own trail of sleep-deprived people?”
And that, dear readers, is why I made this blog. You are my guinea pigs. I want to find out what causes readers to read against their better judgement.
I also want to give some of the more restless thoughts and wonderings in my head space to run about and play, and give the others space to grow. And besides. If my brother can become a successfull blog-writer, why shouldn’t I be able to?
*in my defense, I WAS heaving/dragging 21 Litres of water and something like 6kg of Lasagne in a cloth trolley-suitcase behind me at the time…
if a journey starts with the first step,
then I guess a blog starts with the first word..