Tuesday's Observations

While riding the bike at the Y this morning, I glanced around to see if anyone I knew was there, when I saw it.   I laughed out loud.  A woman on the elliptical going rather slowly with a towel draped around her neck had a STARBUCKS Coffee sitting in the water bottle holder. Really? Is this the new trend?  I don’t think I’ll be participating in this trendy new gym accessory.   Not more than three minutes later, (I am not making this up) another woman the size of my nine year old, stepped onto the treadmill holding her STARABUCKS coffee since the treadmill water bottle holders are smaller.  Weird.  I have no other words, but weird.

My boys whistle non-stop. Whistling drives me insane with a capital I.  Within minutes of them getting up and brushing their teeth, they are whistling.  Coming downstairs to breakfast, they’re whistling.   Playing a game together, they’re both whistling.  I associate whistling with carefree living and not having a worry in the world, so I guess I should be taking it as a compliment as they are both content, happy and enjoy life to the fullest.  I just can’t seem to remember that however when they are actually whistling.  It’s like nails on a chalkboard to me.   I must say STOP WHISTLING 437 times a day.  I need a new tactic or just need to be glad they are happy.

The wind is blowing so hard today.  It has been doing this for almost 24 hours now.  Every leaf that was clinging for dear life to its branch has now disappeared from its home never to return (and will probably end up in Wyoming by tomorrow). Wind annoys me in every possible way.  It makes getting into the car difficult.  You have to hold the car door tightly so as not to hit the car parked next to you.  Your hair gets whipped into your face making it difficult to see where you’re going.   The house rattles and every newspaper in the neighborhood is blowing across the street.  I don’t like it one bit. 

While in the Indian food store this morning, I saw an elderly gentleman (I’m guessing he’s 82) that I recognized from the Y, looking at the chocolate bars in the store.  I don’t know him, but we always say hello to each other at the Y.  He recognized me and came right over to me and asked how I was and held my arm as if I was his best pal.  He told me he recognized me from the Y and how I always ride the bike for a long time.  We chatted and he encouraged me to come every morning instead of the two or three times I come (I had no idea he was keeping track) and that it would be good for me.  I couldn’t stop smiling.  He just wanted to chat and chat some more.  I introduced myself and so did he and told me he’d be looking for me tomorrow.  He was so kind and happy and just wanted to chat for a bit. It was lovely.   I feel pressure now to go to the Y tomorrow even though I don’t normally go on Wednesdays.  I wouldn’t want to disappoint Hal though.

The Dreaded Task

Why is it we put off the things we don’t like to do?   Do you do this?  I’m sure you do.  We all do it in one way or another, but why?   In my mind, putting off things I think will be difficult or boring is just prolonging the agony of the “to do” item. I’m an intelligent person. I know this.  The getting started part is what seems to be difficult for me.  I will find every excuse NOT to do it. 

Here’s a small example of my “putting off” habit.  I hate to balance the checkbook.  I abhor this task with my entire being.  I don’t really have a reason why, but I just do.  It’s tedious, time consuming and down right awful.  It’s also October.  The last time I balanced the checkbook was July.  (My mother is shaking her head as she reads this.)  I have Quicken, which does all the math for me and I still can’t find the energy or the motivation to do it.  It’s basically data entry. No special codes or process, just entering everything as it appears in my checkbook.  

So, Friday, I cleared my calendar and made the decision to dedicate the entire day to this awful task.  I needed to get it off my shoulders so I could enjoy the weekend and relax a bit.   I printed the bank statements (remember, I have three months worth to enter), logged on to Quicken, and sat down at the kitchen table to tackle the pile of paper.   I opened my wallet, but decided I should make myself a glass of iced tea first.  Oh, and maybe I should light a candle to make the atmosphere cozy (it was foggy, cold and wet outside and thunder was rumbling over the house).  I lit the candles in the kitchen and sat down.   My “ding” alert sounded telling me I had a new e-mail.  I should probably check it and see who it’s from.  It could be important.  Read, read, read. A Barnes and Noble coupon, that’s all. I must have done this delay dance for a solid ten minutes.

I finally sat down and dug in.  It took me two hours and I was done.  I felt like dancing when I hit the “reconcile” button and it balanced to the penny.   Almost like a little girl getting her first pair of shiny new shoes. The weight that instantly lifted from my shoulders and mind was incredible.   I felt as light as a feather.  The horrible deed was done. 

Why is it that we make ourselves miserable with these unpleasant tasks?  It was a much larger task than if I had kept up with it each week, five minutes at a time here and there.  I know this and yet I still do it.   Perhaps I like the feeling of accomplishment?  Perhaps I’m just lazy?  Perhaps I’m just really really good at procrastinating?  What ever the reason, I need to remember the dreaded feeling and avoid it.  The only way to do that however is to change the behavior.  I need to spend the five minutes next week and keep up with it. I can do this right?  (Again, my mother is laughing.  Do you know how many times I’ve said this?)  This time will be different, just you wait!  

Club Membership Dues

Is this really happening?   It can’t be.  I am not ready for this.   Just two days ago I had to do it though.  I opened my e-mail and there it was. The black and white text stared at me in an 11-point sized font and I could not see the words with ease.  Yes, I had to change the size of the font of my inbox.   This is a travesty to say the least.

I had to squint so much that my eyebrows hurt.    I actually thought someone had changed it without me knowing because the letters were so small and just the day before, I could see them perfectly.  But no, no one changed anything.  It’s just my vision and its youthfulness fading right before my very eyes. (Pun intended.)

I knew this day was coming, as I’ve been in the 40 Something 45º Head Tilt Club for a few months now.  You know the group.  The ones who tilt their heads back while reading the ingredients on the back of the cereal box at the grocery store and do the zoom in zoom out arm dance ‘til they get the right pose.  That would be us.   It’s not embarrassing or awful.  It’s just a club in life that I wasn’t quite ready to pay my membership dues to and attend the daily meetings. I thought I had more time. 

Being a new member, I am still at the Bronze level however, and the zoom in zoom out arm dance seems to still work for me.  I know that in the next year or so, I’ll probably move up to the Silver level and will be invited by the other members to get the standard “I Got Bifocals Today” t-shirt and my first pair of no-line bifocals.  They swear you only trip up the steps the first week, so am hoping that’s the only initiation they’ll put me through.   If it looks like I’m heading to the Gold level though, I’ll let you know.    Most of the Gold level members just forget the glasses entirely and sign up for the bonus package that includes a Silver level person to follow you around and just read everything for you; the menu, the newspaper, your prescription medicine labels and the like.   They are a lovely group of people, but I sincerely hope to enjoy my Bronze level benefits for many years to come.

For now, I am thankful for 14-point sized font, that my arms are long enough and that Tylenol still works for the head tilt neck ache I have each evening.   I’ll let you know when I get my t-shirt, though.  I’m hoping it comes in pink.

Create

Now is the time to…

Create a dinner for your family filled with homemade bread and pie

Create a space to call your own

Create memories for your children that will be told to their children one day

Create a spot in your dresser for special keepsakes

Create a day filled with games and tents in the living room

Create space in your heart to forgive someone

Create time to read to your children, young and old

Create something with your hands

Create a goal to reach in the next month

Create a wall of photographs that make you smile

Create magic in someone else’s life

Create the life you know you are meant to live

My Inner Duck

I’ve always said that in my previous life I was a duck.  I know this because when it’s cloudy, grey and wet outside my heart sings and I want to quack. I love the weather and all its mist and fog.  I don’t know why this is.  Perhaps I was just wired that way when I was born. 

A few mornings ago, I took a picture of the trees along the road as I was driving to meet a friend for coffee.   Isn’t it beautiful?   The trees are there, but not there.  You almost expect a man to come riding out of the fog with a cape flapping behind him looking to deliver an important message to the lady of the house, no? 

I’m so much more productive on days like this.  I get the house cleaned, the laundry done and so many other things accomplished.  When the weather is like this is makes me more reflective on life and how thankful I am for the life I have right now.  It makes me get that warm and fuzzy feeling inside and somehow gives me permission to slow down.  Why? I don’t know, but I do.

At this time of the year, I become obsessed with the weather. (Ok, maybe that’s not completely true.  I’m obsessed with knowing the weather pretty much all the time.  I like to be in the know and be that person who knows what it’s going to be like on Saturday when it’s Tuesday.  I know.  I’m weird that way, but what is a girl to do about it?  I could be obsessed with shoes, which I am not.  Weather. Free. Shoes. Not Free.)

Anyway, I anxiously wait for 10:12 PM to roll around almost any given night so I can watch my favorite weather man stand in front of his green screen and tell me I’m going to have more of my favorite days coming soon. Cold, wet, cloudy and rainy.  At least that’s what I hope he tells me. Even in the middle of winter I hope for this forecast.  (A girl can hope can’t she?) 

Well, this week, I’m in luck.  Here’s the forecast for the next seven days. 

 Can you see my smile through the screen?  It’s there.  I’m giddy and getting that warm and fuzzy feeling about Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.   My inner duck will be quacking with glee.  Quack. Quack.