I don’t wanna get ahead of myself here and be like, “I’ve changed my life forever in a little over a week!!” because I have a 35-year history of never ever ever EVER following through with ANYTHING. BUT. I’ve discovered something kind of cool thus far in 2014, which is that habits and routines are a little bit of fantastic.
I can’t ever seem to develop any good routines. I wish I could say that’s because I’m totally spontaneous and fill my days and nights with all sorts of different fun things. Instead, the closest thing to a “routine” I have is coming through the door after work, walking straight to the kitchen (while catching up on the day’s Instagram posts) and standing there with my coat on, eating something out of a box or a crinkly bag for ten minutes. After that, I sometimes pull myself together enough to make dinner, sometimes tell Greg that we’re on our own to “scrounge” (which means probably something involving eggs or frozen chicken patties or spaghetti and a jar of sauce). I usually brush my teeth before bed, but most of the time I can’t be bothered to wash my face. I usually roll out of bed at the last possible second, sometimes with enough time for a shower, sometimes with enough time to at least wash my greasy bangs in the sink, sometimes with enough time to pull on a dress and lament my grossness for the rest of the day. It’s a sad pathetic life for a 35 year old with no children.
So slowly but surely, I’ve been trying to develop some routines. I set my phone alarm for 9:55, a five-minute warning that I need to finish up whatever I’m doing and head upstairs. I then have a whole grown-up routine involving vitamins, floss, my Clarisonic, mouth wash, moisturizer, etc. In the mornings, I set my alarm for 6:45, and then get up around 7:05 (baby steps, ok??) and make smoothies for Greg and I. Depending on time constraints, I try to do 20 minutes of yoga. I then walk Porter and am out the door with enough time to be at my desk by 9am. I’d love to get to work early enough that I don’t have to park a mile away in the weird overflow lot, but again, baby steps.
And guess what? After a week and a half, I feel awesome.
I do have more to say on this topic of habit though, so stay tuned…
I will wear you on February 1st.
I make entirely too many resolutions every year, none of which I follow through with. Therefore this year, I’m trying to tone it down a bit. If I can just focus on one or two resolutions obsessively, chances are I’ll be more likely to actually fulfill them.
So rather than the ubiquitous “lose weight” resolution that I’ve made every year for the last 25 years, I’m simplifying it a bit. I bought these jeans ages ago and technically they fit me (or did three weeks ago before I decided to go for broke with my holiday eating), but I’m unsure about the integrity of the button when I pour myself into them. Therefore I’m focusing for right now simply on a January resolution to fit into them *comfortably*. Now these jeans are still a larger size than I find ideal, so it’s not like that will be the end of my struggle. But it will be an important step, and fits that whole SMART theory of goals (Specific, Measurable, Action-Oriented, Realistic, Tangible) that I’m always reading about in my schmillion self-help books.
Wish me luck.
My life is really flying by disconcertingly quickly. I started to read an article about the phenomenon of older parents that’s happening now, but I only got two paragraphs in before the words “fertility” “donor eggs” and “high risk” scared me off.
I want to write a post about how I’m going to really make next year THE YEAR. How I’m going to finally get in shape and reach my goal weight, learn to speak french, get better at guitar, finish the house projects, make art, have parties, blah blah blah. But basically that’s my plan every year.
What in the hell is keeping me from doing these things? I can’t seem to make the connection between the general sense of wanting to accomplish these things and the day to day practice required to accomplish them. My days seem to fly by at breakneck speed. By the time I get home from work, maybe go to the gym, maybe make dinner, maybe do some cleaning, maybe spend a bit of time with Greg, it’s time to get ready for bed. Oh, and I don’t even have kids or cable tv, so I honestly don’t know how everyone else is doing ANYTHING.
I know I get overenthusiastic. My ideas tend to come fast and furious, piling up on top of one another, vying for my time and attention. I know the answer is just to take one project at a time, but the impatient side of me wants it all right now. I want to be a skinny and fit french speaking guitar virtuoso. Choosing simply one of these things to focus on feels like choosing among your children.