I’ve come back from vacation with a determination to be more productive overall. Yes, yes, I know I blather on about working harder frequently, but this feels different.Previously, I’ve been intellectually bemoaning my inactivity but I haven’t really felt that bad about it. That is the real problem-I’m comfortable with underacheiving.
For the last few days, though, I’ve felt different. Instead of becoming a useless pile of internet-surfing slug after dinner, I’m working my way through various household jobs and a small amount of writing work. I’ve been able to focus on one task at a time instead of scurrying around trying to do 8 things at once and forgetting 7 1/2 of them.
Infuriatingly, I have been given additional surprise tasks that are testing my resolve, like the washer full of putrid water on Monday (the culprit was a bikini top breast pad plugging the sump up. Oh it smelt terrible). Yesterday was the discovery of the curdling milk soaked into the back seat of the car. That one isn’t resolved yet, but blasting the air conditioning in my face seems to mask most of the stink. Today, the cat was frightened by the sound of the dryer, or she was tired from a day of doing nothing, and she chose to pee in the dining room while I sat 10 feet away. That, ladies and gentlemen, is respect.
So, all of these hurdles are pushing my anger buttons pretty successfully. I’m trying to do a good job for once, but life keeps heaping other smelly jobs on top of the stuff I normally neglect. I’m angriest at myself, specifically the lazy slob inside who still wants to shift into neutral and do nothing. That guy is pissing me off. Still, laundry is getting done, kitchen is clean, carpet is shampooed, child is happy and nurtured, and wife is doing okay. I got gun shy at writing up and submitting an article query to Today’s Parent magazine, but hopefully I can take another run at that tomorrow and be successful.
Doing things is hard!