Lately, I have had lots of concerns running around my head. They are common in that they are becoming frequent and ongoing for me at the moment, so very common to me. Like constant companions, almost. The reason I address these concerns is because I am in a slump of sorts or some kind of funk. I think. I've recently become an extremely low-functioning multi-tasker. I can tell because my bedroom is messy. Maybe I'm in an dysfunctional state of shock. I think back to the period in my life when I used to always keep lists of things to do and I tell myself, "I should do that again." There are two options: 1) this is temporary, or 2) I am headed down a sliding slope to which there is no uphill. I'm not exactly sure what my little slump is caused by. Overwhelmed? Busy? Tired? More importantly, I don't think I should be in and tell myself daily that I need to get out of said slump. But maybe it's only natural. A phase that will pass in its own due course. My current state and constant companions are these:
1. I'm terribly unmotivated to work out lately. This is SO not like me.
2. This means that I am also not feeling very "fit" and like my usual self. (This is especially cause for concern because my wedding dress was just shipped out today from China and I am afraid, if I don't get out of this slump, I may not fit into it by the time it arrives.)
3. I fear this lack of motivation could have some weird subconscious connection to the fact I'm getting married and I will, henceforth, quit working out altogether and gain lots of weight, like a lot of folk do when the get married. But I really don't think so. At least I hope that's not the case.
4. Some things in regards to planning a wedding take a lot longer to do than I thought they would. Who would have thought that getting a ring and picking a photographer would be endeavors that take 2 months? One of the million reasons I could never just up and get married.
5. The dress business -- can we really pull this off in time? Crunch time is coming. We're supposed to have sample dresses within the next month and a half. And we're supposed to sell them. And they're supposed to fit people. And fit the very well. Really? Can we swing that? We have samples to make, fitting of patterns to make sure the samples will be what we want, sample makers with schedules I can't remember, business cards we don't have yet, a fashion illustrator who isn't me so I can't know telepathically how far along she is at any given moment and when she will have our illustrations done, a mind-boggling lack of any previous experience in this line of business... seriously. What was I thinking?
6. If it takes this long to figure out the ring and the photographer, how are we ever going to manage getting to the catering, the cake, the honeymoon, the invitations, the engagement pictures, registering, the bridal shower..... time is not my friend right now.
7. Did I mention I'm turning into human lard right now? Seriously, the tone I've lost in my arm muscles and which has since become "soft tissue" grosses me out. What's that doing there! But I refuse to tell myself I have to work out. There are fundamental problems with that approach to working out. I really have to want to in order to get myself to do it.
8. Interviewing for new jobs... I found out my present boss is crazy and liable to get my entire organization sued at any given moment. This causes me a little bit of concern, so I have opted to look around a little bit, despite the fact I've only been at my present job for 5 months. I have interviews to go to, and positives and negatives to weigh. Then, you throw in the fact Ben keeps on talking about looking for jobs, only his options are in places like Boston and Cincinatti and.... that's just all kind of confusing.
9. I think my brain is on overload and my body has become dysfunctional.
10. I'm afraid my severe lack of attention to detail and random dead-heading and watering without any nutritional supplements to my mother's rose garden may strain my family relationships, specifically with -- my mother.
11. I can't even remember. But I'm sure there's something else to worry about. I'll get back to it.
12. Oh yeah. I remember. They say marriage changes things. But what exactly does it change? My brother says I won't travel so much. Really? And what's all this baby talk people keep throwing around? And all those accounts and documents and stuff that we have to update/notify/consolidate/close/I don't know what. All of that is a bundle of big, gray fuzz to me.
13. Visiting teaching.... right. On it. Oh, darn. I was on it. I'm on it. Darn. Missed it again. Okay, I'm REALLY on this time. Really.
Clearly, there is some stuff that may be cause for stress. But I think, despite the fact I have a few things going on, I should be energetic and, task-oriented and in a go-get-em kind of scheduling mode and fitting in as much as I can. But much of me has become a vegetable of sorts. I could manage more. But I'm on mental sensory overload and instead of rising to the occasion, I'm misfiring and my various systems are malfunctioning and shutting down. Time to reboot. Reboot #@*! it!
Showing posts with label behavior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label behavior. Show all posts
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Thoughts On Cleaning
I'm not sure who thought up "spring cleaning". How is it considered a given that "spring" and "cleaning" go together? Spring signals to me running outside, more sunlight, taking walks, wearing lighter coats and playing frisbee. All of those things usually provide me with LESS time for cleaning.
More appropos for me would be "guest cleaning". I'm much more likely to tidy up for guests rather than spring. I just don't care what the heck spring thinks of my home. But my friends -- I like to make them feel comfortable. I also don't like to be dubbed "the total slob who lives in a den of filth." Don't get me wrong. I do clean for my own joy and benefit -- and to keep away icky things like vermin and ants. But, hands down, my best cleaning spells are in the wake of hosting.
So,the Book Club, comprised of various friends, is coming to my house this evening. Thus, yesterday was a cleaning extravaganza. Boy was THAT an eye opener. Truly. I wondered if my blinds had been dusted EVER. It took some time, but they made an amazing transformation from dark brown to actual white (who knew?) last night.
The most hilarious moment in the evening came when I gave the living room a thorough visual inspection to assess where I should start. I was alarmed to find the nativity set was still up. Oh, and look! A festive poinsetta atop one of the speakers on the other side of the room. And the minorah in the window. So, being the wise and savvy task manager that I am, I decided a good place to start would be to put away the Christmas decorations. Naturally.
It's the end of MAY! Wow! I could blame my distraction on my busy schedule. I have one of those. But I won't, because we all know --- I can be THAT oblivious. I had an old roommate who used to get bugged that I would forget to shut cupboard doors in the kitchen after I opened them (among other things that I do which bugged her -- and may still bug her and other people, I'm sure). I warned my new roommate, before she moved in, of this quirk and also added that this would be one of many. I believe in open disclosure.
Somehow I didn't get the female gene that mandates I think lots of things are "icky", scream at spiders and must meticulously clean my bathroom on a weekly basis. This is partially because I just don't notice half the stuff(note the Christmas decor experience listed above).
And I'm just not a squeamish, "that's gross" kind of girl. I find dramatic reactions tiring and silly. Not because all people who squeal at a spider are silly. No, indeed. But because I am silly when I do it because I have no natural inclination to do so. It'd be pure theatrics. Honest. I've tried it. I just felt silly. Instinctively, when I encounter a crawling thing, I just debate on whether to kill it or let it live as long as it doesn't crawl on ME. After all, what did the spider ever do to me? But if it DOES crawl on me,-- well that is an offense, justifiably punishable by death to the spider. So, is it worth the risk to let one of God's creatures live? Dilemmas.....
Another element is that I didn't observe peculiar activities like that thing called "dusting" unless I was at a friend's house -- my mother just wasn't a neat freak. At all. She still isn't. I can recall one occasion, just before my parents were leaving for their mission this past fall, in fact. We were having company over and I was "guest cleaning" the house completely, as my mother had broken her ankles and wasn't really able to help. I asked her about a couple of things she might like me to do to make the house look really nice. Her response was, "No, that's alright. It's ok if the house looks like we live here."
I love that about my mom. We didn't grow up in a meticulously clean home, but it was relatively orderly, very open to people (who seemed to like to be there) and, reflectively, I appreciate that I got to spend time with my mother rather than watch her clean a lot.
I am also grateful she made us clean on occasion, taught us HOW to clean (though I have had to learn a couple things since having left the nest.... like dusting), and that I can make a bathroom sparkle when given the right motivation. But I just don't care to do it all the time. Unless of course, you're coming over. In which case, maybe you could give me a day's notice? I might suddenly feel inspired to do a few things...
More appropos for me would be "guest cleaning". I'm much more likely to tidy up for guests rather than spring. I just don't care what the heck spring thinks of my home. But my friends -- I like to make them feel comfortable. I also don't like to be dubbed "the total slob who lives in a den of filth." Don't get me wrong. I do clean for my own joy and benefit -- and to keep away icky things like vermin and ants. But, hands down, my best cleaning spells are in the wake of hosting.
So,the Book Club, comprised of various friends, is coming to my house this evening. Thus, yesterday was a cleaning extravaganza. Boy was THAT an eye opener. Truly. I wondered if my blinds had been dusted EVER. It took some time, but they made an amazing transformation from dark brown to actual white (who knew?) last night.
The most hilarious moment in the evening came when I gave the living room a thorough visual inspection to assess where I should start. I was alarmed to find the nativity set was still up. Oh, and look! A festive poinsetta atop one of the speakers on the other side of the room. And the minorah in the window. So, being the wise and savvy task manager that I am, I decided a good place to start would be to put away the Christmas decorations. Naturally.
It's the end of MAY! Wow! I could blame my distraction on my busy schedule. I have one of those. But I won't, because we all know --- I can be THAT oblivious. I had an old roommate who used to get bugged that I would forget to shut cupboard doors in the kitchen after I opened them (among other things that I do which bugged her -- and may still bug her and other people, I'm sure). I warned my new roommate, before she moved in, of this quirk and also added that this would be one of many. I believe in open disclosure.
Somehow I didn't get the female gene that mandates I think lots of things are "icky", scream at spiders and must meticulously clean my bathroom on a weekly basis. This is partially because I just don't notice half the stuff(note the Christmas decor experience listed above).
And I'm just not a squeamish, "that's gross" kind of girl. I find dramatic reactions tiring and silly. Not because all people who squeal at a spider are silly. No, indeed. But because I am silly when I do it because I have no natural inclination to do so. It'd be pure theatrics. Honest. I've tried it. I just felt silly. Instinctively, when I encounter a crawling thing, I just debate on whether to kill it or let it live as long as it doesn't crawl on ME. After all, what did the spider ever do to me? But if it DOES crawl on me,-- well that is an offense, justifiably punishable by death to the spider. So, is it worth the risk to let one of God's creatures live? Dilemmas.....
Another element is that I didn't observe peculiar activities like that thing called "dusting" unless I was at a friend's house -- my mother just wasn't a neat freak. At all. She still isn't. I can recall one occasion, just before my parents were leaving for their mission this past fall, in fact. We were having company over and I was "guest cleaning" the house completely, as my mother had broken her ankles and wasn't really able to help. I asked her about a couple of things she might like me to do to make the house look really nice. Her response was, "No, that's alright. It's ok if the house looks like we live here."
I love that about my mom. We didn't grow up in a meticulously clean home, but it was relatively orderly, very open to people (who seemed to like to be there) and, reflectively, I appreciate that I got to spend time with my mother rather than watch her clean a lot.
I am also grateful she made us clean on occasion, taught us HOW to clean (though I have had to learn a couple things since having left the nest.... like dusting), and that I can make a bathroom sparkle when given the right motivation. But I just don't care to do it all the time. Unless of course, you're coming over. In which case, maybe you could give me a day's notice? I might suddenly feel inspired to do a few things...
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Anti-Bucket
My recent musings come from a late night experience I had last week. I was home playing a game of spider solitaire on the computer and having my near-daily dose of ice cream. Now, I'll be honest. Spider solitaire has become an obsession. I finally had to delete it off my work computer because it was SO distracting. And I don't admit to people how often I've been playing it because I think it's ridiculous. It's one of the few things that will draw me to the computer when I'm not at work -- that and selling things on Ebay. And I'm not sure why I play it because it actually frustrates the crap out of me. Is the difficult level really winnable every time? Because I can only seem to win every 20 times or so. It could just be that I suck. But I prefer to think that winning would be impossible. It makes me feel smarter. :)
Anyhow, before I sat down to my love/hate computer game, I got a bowl of ice cream. As I mentioned previously, I've been in the habit of eating ice cream almost every day lately. So, on I went about my daily business. As I was scooping, I noticed I was starting to reach the bottom of my stockpile. Normally, when this happens, the only thing I'm thinking is, "Oh no! Must buy more ice cream!" This time, however, I was disconcerted for an entirely different reason.
This particular container of ice cream was a large bucket -- the kind that when you get to the bottom you risk getting your whole arm sticky trying to dig down to its plunging, vat-like depths. Those buckets are GINORMOUS. They would feed entire villages for weeks in third world countries if they could afford the expensive temperature-controlled shipping costs to get them there.
By the way, I don't normally buy ice cream by the bucket. We happened to have this bucket left over from some event my mother had been a part of. And I'm all about left overs and free food. It was about half-full when I started (that comforts me slightly.). But the facts were, and still are, unsettling. My parents hadn't been eating any of this. So, I had only me, myself and I to hold accountable. I had, all by myself, eaten all the way down to the bottom of the bucket. And there I was. I'd hit rock bottom. Or bucket bottom. Whatever. If there were an ice cream rehab, at that moment I would have been motivated enough to admit myself.
All at once, I was keenly aware of the genius of those bite-sized Ben & Jerry cartons that look big enough to satiate an ant, and the liberation in Haagen Daz and other fine ice creams who only deal in smaller portions. The naked truth is you will never, EVER get to the bottom of the bucket with these ice creams. You may, indeed, consume just as many calories with all those wholesome, high-quality, full cream, more fat than exists in an entire cow ingredients, but it will be pint-sized calories. So, at least mentally, you'll feel much better.
Okay, so I was only somewhat traumatized, considering I ate my bowl of ice cream that night, regardless. And there is still a good serving or two left in the depths of the bucket. But it's been over a week and I can't stomach going back and finishing the bucket. It's a BUCKET for pete's sake! I may secretly over-indulge in spider solitaire, and maybe even shopping. But an ice cream bucket is where I draw the line.
Anyhow, before I sat down to my love/hate computer game, I got a bowl of ice cream. As I mentioned previously, I've been in the habit of eating ice cream almost every day lately. So, on I went about my daily business. As I was scooping, I noticed I was starting to reach the bottom of my stockpile. Normally, when this happens, the only thing I'm thinking is, "Oh no! Must buy more ice cream!" This time, however, I was disconcerted for an entirely different reason.
This particular container of ice cream was a large bucket -- the kind that when you get to the bottom you risk getting your whole arm sticky trying to dig down to its plunging, vat-like depths. Those buckets are GINORMOUS. They would feed entire villages for weeks in third world countries if they could afford the expensive temperature-controlled shipping costs to get them there.
By the way, I don't normally buy ice cream by the bucket. We happened to have this bucket left over from some event my mother had been a part of. And I'm all about left overs and free food. It was about half-full when I started (that comforts me slightly.). But the facts were, and still are, unsettling. My parents hadn't been eating any of this. So, I had only me, myself and I to hold accountable. I had, all by myself, eaten all the way down to the bottom of the bucket. And there I was. I'd hit rock bottom. Or bucket bottom. Whatever. If there were an ice cream rehab, at that moment I would have been motivated enough to admit myself.
All at once, I was keenly aware of the genius of those bite-sized Ben & Jerry cartons that look big enough to satiate an ant, and the liberation in Haagen Daz and other fine ice creams who only deal in smaller portions. The naked truth is you will never, EVER get to the bottom of the bucket with these ice creams. You may, indeed, consume just as many calories with all those wholesome, high-quality, full cream, more fat than exists in an entire cow ingredients, but it will be pint-sized calories. So, at least mentally, you'll feel much better.
Okay, so I was only somewhat traumatized, considering I ate my bowl of ice cream that night, regardless. And there is still a good serving or two left in the depths of the bucket. But it's been over a week and I can't stomach going back and finishing the bucket. It's a BUCKET for pete's sake! I may secretly over-indulge in spider solitaire, and maybe even shopping. But an ice cream bucket is where I draw the line.
Friday, May 4, 2007
longterm vs. shortterm
Geoffrey Beane and I were having a conversation yesterday about decisions and actions based on longterm and shortterm. This conversation was spurred by Sex and The City (I had just finished watching the last 4 episodes of the 6th season, for the 1st time). He iterated that two of the characters made a lot of decisions based on shortterm gratification rather than longterm goals. Therefore, he didn't like or respect the characters very much.
In some respects, I see his point. But I also think that it depends on how you are looking at it. In some circumstances, it could be true, or not, that shortterm, and maybe even "short-sighted," motives and behaviors are completely justified.
I cited to him that a dating relationship is most obviously a shortterm decision. Granted, for many people there are long-term goals in mind. But rarely do I go on a first date with the idea that I'm getting married to my date. I'm thinking more along the lines of surviving the evening, not embarassing myself, getting to know someone and trying to have a good time. I've even been on dates where I KNEW beforehand it was going nowhere. I was espousing the idea of being nice to the guy, and it can't hurt to have a good time (as long as he doesn't scare me.:)) Geoffrey ceded that dating was a shortterm goal that was not bad.
So, does everything you do have to have an over-arching longterm purpose? For example, dancing. Does dancing have a longterm purpose? It seems pretty instant gratification-oriented to me. What about my shoe collection? Or that trip to Vegas last week? :) One thing's for sure. Neither has helped my bank account(***please note that no money lost in Vegas was due to losses in gambling.**** please also note that I did not say I DIDN'T gamble. I just said I didn't lose.). But are they bad?
I think my life would be much less fulfilling without these things. But then there are obvious ones to identify -- one nightstands -- I see how that is a very bad shortterm gratification. Sad, because they do sound so fun and easy in theory. There must, however, be a place for doing something for the "fun" of it, without being bad.
I think it has a lot to do with the "eat, drink and be merry" theory. There is this place called "living it up" where things go from white to grey to bad. Lines dividing these areas are very evasive, so much so that I'm not sure they have ever been identified. This is probably why old party-pooper fuddy-duddies always warn to stay as far away from the edge of the line as possible: because it is so hard to identify whether or not the line's been crossed, and they believe one's better off to avoid the bad at any and all costs.
And then you have idiots like myself, who like to get as cloooooooooose as possible to those lines, in the spirit of wanting to have as much FUN as possible and "suck the marrow at of life"... without being bad. Not a wrong endeavor, right? But it's so hard to discern when it is exactly that things start to go bad. I'm not sure this blog ended up where it started. But thoughts don't always do that. And I was just thinking....
In some respects, I see his point. But I also think that it depends on how you are looking at it. In some circumstances, it could be true, or not, that shortterm, and maybe even "short-sighted," motives and behaviors are completely justified.
I cited to him that a dating relationship is most obviously a shortterm decision. Granted, for many people there are long-term goals in mind. But rarely do I go on a first date with the idea that I'm getting married to my date. I'm thinking more along the lines of surviving the evening, not embarassing myself, getting to know someone and trying to have a good time. I've even been on dates where I KNEW beforehand it was going nowhere. I was espousing the idea of being nice to the guy, and it can't hurt to have a good time (as long as he doesn't scare me.:)) Geoffrey ceded that dating was a shortterm goal that was not bad.
So, does everything you do have to have an over-arching longterm purpose? For example, dancing. Does dancing have a longterm purpose? It seems pretty instant gratification-oriented to me. What about my shoe collection? Or that trip to Vegas last week? :) One thing's for sure. Neither has helped my bank account(***please note that no money lost in Vegas was due to losses in gambling.**** please also note that I did not say I DIDN'T gamble. I just said I didn't lose.). But are they bad?
I think my life would be much less fulfilling without these things. But then there are obvious ones to identify -- one nightstands -- I see how that is a very bad shortterm gratification. Sad, because they do sound so fun and easy in theory. There must, however, be a place for doing something for the "fun" of it, without being bad.
I think it has a lot to do with the "eat, drink and be merry" theory. There is this place called "living it up" where things go from white to grey to bad. Lines dividing these areas are very evasive, so much so that I'm not sure they have ever been identified. This is probably why old party-pooper fuddy-duddies always warn to stay as far away from the edge of the line as possible: because it is so hard to identify whether or not the line's been crossed, and they believe one's better off to avoid the bad at any and all costs.
And then you have idiots like myself, who like to get as cloooooooooose as possible to those lines, in the spirit of wanting to have as much FUN as possible and "suck the marrow at of life"... without being bad. Not a wrong endeavor, right? But it's so hard to discern when it is exactly that things start to go bad. I'm not sure this blog ended up where it started. But thoughts don't always do that. And I was just thinking....
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Kevin Bacon
Ok, so I finished The Secret yesterday. And I must say, after having finished it I agree with it more than I did before. But I'm still about a 80% good stuff vs. 20% hooey believer. Generally, anything that tells me to do things I think are nutty, ... I'm gonna think is kinda nutty. Doing things I don't think rational-- ditto. But I really did like it's theories and overall message. Some very good lessons to learn in that book. But I am totally sold on one thing from the book. I TOTALLY love the book on cd idea. I might have to join a library that has those. Otherwise, this new habit could be grow to be a very expensive hobby. Books are pricey enough. Books on cd -- ouch.
So, my big news from yesterday: Kevin Bacon came into the clothing shop where I work (I TOLD you it was high end clothes). I knew him the second he walked in the store, as if I'd seen him 5000 times before. Oh wait, I have. Anyway, SO Cool. And yet, what do you do when you see Kevin Bacon? I don't think I have the answer for you. Here's a rendition of maybe what not to do:
So, there I am, in the same room with Kevin Bacon... what to do... Act natural, right? I don't want to gawk and make him feel uncomfortable or do anything "unnatural", though I don't know what IS "natural" to do when you're in the same room as an incredibly talented actor who has his own game and is a phenomenon only equal to himself. I just don't run into that scenario very often. But I try anyway.... what's natural? what's natural? Hmmm....
Thinking... Thinking..., I'm still in the same room as Kevin Bacon. At the clothing shop. And what do I do? I pretend he's just another customer and don't acknowledge that I know he's Kevin Bacon. Why does this make sense? Why is "pretending" more natural in my logic? I have no idea.
Then my store manager tells me to tell him that we have men's clothing next door. She's making me talk to him!!! That means I acknowledge that he's there, and my "I think you're just like anybody else" cover is totally blown! Slight panic on the inside, but I keep my cool. So, I tell him. Wooh, that was challenging. But good. I did it. I'm cool, yo. He's there with his daughters and this woman that is there with them (maybe his mom?). So, I kinda just told the group. That made it easier to do. The "maybe mom" tells me they've already been there. He (she means Kevin, of course, but she's not verbally admitting who he is either, apparently) really liked the men's selection and their t-shirts, but thanks for letting them know.
And then he and his little group casually and "naturally" peruse themselves over into the denim section of our store, where I don't work, so my opportunity to stare and revel in his presence is gone. The end. Brilliance, Sharon. Brilliance. Note to self - next time you run into a him, which will probably be never, or any other famous person you think is cool, it's probably ok to smile at them. I bet you even celebrities like smiles.
So, my big news from yesterday: Kevin Bacon came into the clothing shop where I work (I TOLD you it was high end clothes). I knew him the second he walked in the store, as if I'd seen him 5000 times before. Oh wait, I have. Anyway, SO Cool. And yet, what do you do when you see Kevin Bacon? I don't think I have the answer for you. Here's a rendition of maybe what not to do:
So, there I am, in the same room with Kevin Bacon... what to do... Act natural, right? I don't want to gawk and make him feel uncomfortable or do anything "unnatural", though I don't know what IS "natural" to do when you're in the same room as an incredibly talented actor who has his own game and is a phenomenon only equal to himself. I just don't run into that scenario very often. But I try anyway.... what's natural? what's natural? Hmmm....
Thinking... Thinking..., I'm still in the same room as Kevin Bacon. At the clothing shop. And what do I do? I pretend he's just another customer and don't acknowledge that I know he's Kevin Bacon. Why does this make sense? Why is "pretending" more natural in my logic? I have no idea.
Then my store manager tells me to tell him that we have men's clothing next door. She's making me talk to him!!! That means I acknowledge that he's there, and my "I think you're just like anybody else" cover is totally blown! Slight panic on the inside, but I keep my cool. So, I tell him. Wooh, that was challenging. But good. I did it. I'm cool, yo. He's there with his daughters and this woman that is there with them (maybe his mom?). So, I kinda just told the group. That made it easier to do. The "maybe mom" tells me they've already been there. He (she means Kevin, of course, but she's not verbally admitting who he is either, apparently) really liked the men's selection and their t-shirts, but thanks for letting them know.
And then he and his little group casually and "naturally" peruse themselves over into the denim section of our store, where I don't work, so my opportunity to stare and revel in his presence is gone. The end. Brilliance, Sharon. Brilliance. Note to self - next time you run into a him, which will probably be never, or any other famous person you think is cool, it's probably ok to smile at them. I bet you even celebrities like smiles.
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