Good morning dears!
My last few posts have been a little bit (read: A LOT) heavy, so I wanted to share some lighter thoughts with you. After careful consideration, I decided to make a list of all the things I cannot do. To be clear: This is not a pity party. I am totally aware of these shortcomings and I am A-OK with most of them. But they are real, and they are mine. Perhaps you can relate to some of them!
Why can’t I clean this house? Especially dusting and mopping. You’d think someone so anal about keeping life organized (you should see my planner) would be cleaner. Um, no. It seems so pointless, you guys. I will mop and then it will rain and the dog will track in mud. I will dust, and the sheetrock man will come and sand the walls and then it will look worse than before I made that effort. Mopping is like 400-level adulting. It’s like the qualifiers for Grown-Up Nationals. That and doing your taxes. If you come over, don’t look at the floors or furniture. Thanks so much.
I can’t seem to get to work on time. Many moons have gone by with me trying. I really do try. But alas, it’s a daily struggle. I have a schedule. It works on paper. Right now, I should have lunches made and be getting in the shower. This will get me easily to work at 7:30. See you at 8:08, dear co-workers.
I cannot answer unknown phone calls, or calls in general, except from hubs and my mom. And even then, it’s hard some days. I panic just thinking about it. Stop ringing at me! I cannot even with this. It’s not personal, really. It’s not you–it’s me. I know that Jen Hatmaker talks about this, too, and she’s pretty amazing, so I can totally live with this.
Why can’t I switch out summer and winter clothes? Every year it’s 90 degrees or snowing and I have fully stocked closets of the wrong season’s clothes. I had my kids do it this spring, and now my son is wearing too small t-shirts and shorts that make him look like a member of The Village People. I am not kidding.
Shopping for Christmas gifts is excruciating for me. Every year, I decide I will start shopping in June, at all the art festivals and fun venues in my town. I will get it done early this year! Hooray for me! Every September, with zero gifts purchased, I decide to really buckle down and get serious about this. Every November, I set deadlines for myself about completing this challenge, because ABC Family has already started their Countdown To The 25 Days Of Christmas and I have nothing to show for it. Every December 20, you will find me making lists and tables for three hours about what to buy, who to buy for, where to get said item, etc (this particular habit makes my mother insane and I feel badly about this but I can’t help it). And on December 22, you will see me wild-eyed and panicked in every store in the greater Chicagoland area, annoyed that their selection is so low. HELLO! IT’S CHRISTMAS!!! In like 72 hours. Can’t you stock more sweaters, Kohl’s???? You guys, this one is bad. My mom can tell you if you don’t believe me.
I cannot seem to make myself pull weeds. I see them. And I keep walking. It’s another fruitless endeavor, like the dusting. Those damn things just come back. I need steel resolve to get out there and weed. This was not an issue when we lived in the woods because it was natural. Now my house looks like Fred Sanford’s when I’m lazy in this area.
I cannot walk on uneven ground. This one seems ridiculous. I was a dancer! I practice yoga! My balance should be decent. But if you put me on an uneven hillside, or a rocky shorefront, or–GASP–a talus slope, just sit back and watch the hilarity ensue. I look like a chunky giraffe learning to walk. It’s comical. If you are not me.
I cannot make hair appointments. I wait until it’s dire straits and then become angry that I can’t get the appointment I want. Plan ahead, girl! Look at a calendar. But no. When you see me with three inch roots and looking like a Muppet, you know I am struggling with this. My salon now has online appointments, which you would think would make it easier. You would think wrong.
I can’t really make appointments in general. This involves talking to people, who I usually don’t know, and then setting up another time to talk to them MORE. This is insanity, folks. Why would someone do this? Right now I have so many work meetings and appointments that my brain is leaking out of my ears. So. Damn. Hard.
I cannot measure distances. This one isn’t because I get anxious or nervous or procrastinate. I’m just really bad at this. Do not ask me how far away something is, or how long something is, or how much something weighs. It’s also probably why I procrastinate so much–I cannot measure time accurately, either. I was pretty sure I only gained 20 pounds during my first pregnancy, and was amazed to see the scale dangerously close to having a 2 in the HUNDREDS place on my delivery day. Don’t ask me to measure anything except wine. And that’s only because I’m overly generous because I can’t measure and so it’s not my fault that’s actually two glasses’ worth. You’re welcome.
There are a lot of things that I am good at, and I really appreciate those about myself, but alas, I have some quirks. We all do, right? May my quirks serve as your amusement this morning. And if you want to come over: Don’t call, because I won’t pick up. Don’t look at the floor. And enjoy that tankard of wine!
Photo Credit: Denise Mattox, Flickr