Posts Tagged ‘procrastination’

I’m Sure I’ll Get Around To Titling This Tomorrow

Friday, April 16th, 2010

My task for the coming week is to try to break down and analyze the subtle “LORD NO PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME DO IT I DON’T WANT TO DO IT KEEP IT AWAY ACK ACK” reaction that I sometimes have to work-related or administrative tasks.  You have paperwork to be done?  I can do that for you.  Here, let me help.  I have paperwork to be done?  ….Wait, where did I go?  …Me? … Hello?  …Bueller?

I think maybe it has something to do with how long I’ve been putting off…Er…I mean, legitimately unable to complete it.  The longer it sits in that pile on my desk, giving me judgmental sidelong glances, the less I want to have anything to do with it.  See, by that time it comes all tied up with reassuring things like stress, and guilt, and feelings of failure.  And I’m just not always nice enough to allow myself that kind of reassurance.

(I’m a bitch like that sometimes.)

On the plus (and completely unrelated) side, on my way home today I finally remembered to pick up some BBQ lighters.  I like them for lighting candles, and aromatherapy diffuser thingies (Don’t judge – research says that they might actually help.  And I don’t actually own any hemp, nor to my knowledge has anything I’m currently wearing been tie dyed.), and the citronella candles for our backyard.  And with the overwhelming burden of all of these many things that I simply must light on fire, I figured that more than one lighting device, located in more than one location, might be handy to have.  I’m not entirely sure what the cashier thought when I went in and purchased three barbeque lighters and a roll of tape.  I’m sure it was perfectly innocent.

Guilt-licious

Saturday, March 13th, 2010

My life in a nutshell.  …Or at least in compellingly bad drawings.

I don’t tend to do much internetting on the weekends.  We’re already about two hours short of time for what we had planned to do today, and we’ve only been awake for about three hours (you think I am joking, but I’m not.  Really.  Two hours behind out of three.).  And yes, we schedule these things sometimes.  Because otherwise how will we know to berate ourselves for discussing the future of our car purchases when there was YOGA TO BE DONE?

Conclusions?  If my husband does not get a more comfortable car he will immediately turn into a shriveled old man, and I don’t want THAT, do I?  Also that we do not in any way have the money to get the car that we want.  And that buying a giant old chevy or something makes me feel a little dirty inside.

I sometimes think my life would be significantly improved if I only scheduled more.  Sometimes that it would be significantly improved if  I only scheduled less.  Maybe it depends on what I’m scheduling  (Is there an award for most anal person ever?  Because I am fairly sure the last few statements may have given me an edge… I’m not, really, but I would take your award.  I like awards.).  Left to my own devices I tend to feel pressured to jump from one productive thing to the next, and just end up ignoring work tasks sometimes but feeling super guilty about it rather than enjoying the moment (and by “sometimes” I may be underestimating just a tad).  If there’s something more pleasant on the schedule, then I have no choice but to do it.  And like it.  Because it’s ON THE SCHEDULE.  And you don’t mess with shit like that.

So Oriental. Soooo Sneaky

Tuesday, March 2nd, 2010

I’m a big in-head conversationalist.  I’m sure that I could solve the world’s problems if someone just gave me an hour or two of long car ride and potentially a can of coke (which is good, because as previously mentioned, I am maybe kind of probably responsible for them).  Mostly right now I focus on the great global travesty of how to convince my psychiatrist that I don’t want another SSRI to try just yet, but you know, I could branch out.  If I wanted to.

Sometimes now just after I finish writing here, everything that happens in my life gets mentally blogged instead.  And let me tell you, that blog would be defectively fascinating.  Like a puppy with two heads, or a scab that looks sort of like a major political figure, or one of those cat hairs that manages to weave its way through my clothes.  Plus, two times more ninjas than I write about here.

I’ve ended up on sort of a de facto schedule lately.  Not the type of schedule that my therapists have gently encouraged me towards (or away from, depending on which side of “all or nothing” I happen to be falling on that week), but it is meshing into something consistent enough that I find myself starting to work around it.  I can’t do that then.  That’s when I wander back and forth jittering.  …Duh.

This morning I am putting my newfound self-enlightenment to work, and experimenting with forcing myself to sit down here and write before the morning coffee has worn off, and the Ritalin starts to take its mid-afternoon downturn.  I think perhaps that I am suffering some of that “ego-centric” side effect loveliness that they mention in relation to things like this that mess with dopamine.  Largely because the times like this that I have the energy to accomplish things like “paperwork” and such, it seems like a solidly poor idea.  I will not debase myself with these “insurance forms you speak of!”  …Then by around 4pm I’m crashed out on the couch in a pile wondering what the hell I was thinking, and making resolutions that clearly I will take care of it tomorrow.

Yes.  Clearly.

So yes, posting here while I have the energy.  On the plus side, it means less mopey-frowny deep analysis of my life and goals and inner workings.  Down side, none of this makes any sense.  …But more ninjas.

Plus, I really know how to let a thing go.

With pineapple mango jam. …When did this actually turn into a blog about what I had for lunch??

Wednesday, July 29th, 2009

I wish sometimes that human beings came with a little view screen that displayed what’s really going on in there.

“Oh – I don’t really want these nachos, I’m just lonely”

Or

“Oh – I’m cleaning this floor so intently to avoid dealing with those incomplete forms on my desk”

Or
”Oh – it’s the Flintstones theme song”

Sometimes I think I know what’s going on in my head, but at other times I’m totally lost.  And my head lies.  Frequently.  And well.

I’ve been feeling lately like I didn’t really have time to write here (or to do much of anything else, really) because I’m trying to get the house in order after our move, and am eager to have things in some vague level of livability.  I think that’s part of it, but I also think that I have been MUCH more stressed out about other life events than I’ve fully realized.  I wonder if my workaholic nature is often affected this way.

There’s been a lot of financial stress lately on this end.  Since the allergic reaction to my meds, the prognosis for my return to work has changed dramatically.  The financial situation was not entirely rosy to begin with having just purchased our first house, and the extra costs associated with trying to get me better so far had significantly chewed through any reserves we may have had.  So now we’re up to our eyeballs in debt, and weighing significantly any purchase of items for the house.  Do we really need a lawn mower?  Could we cut each blade by hand?  Maybe we could get a goat…

If I can’t go back to work as intended, that will leave me without pay for a period of time before long term disability insurance benefits would kick in.  That’s thousands of dollars difference in our income for that time, and still a significant difference after even once the insurance payments start (provided all goes smoothly and I’m quickly approved).  Thank goodness that I even have that, is all that I can say.  I can’t imagine working through something like this without that safety net.  We’d lose our house, our car,…just about everything but each other.

At any rate, as thinly stretched as we are, the extra strain is going to be significant.  I think in part I’ve been trying to be strong for my husband.  I know that the possibility of my being off work longer stresses him RIGHT THE FUCK OUT.  He’s had a couple of mini-meltdowns because of it, and I can’t help but feeling on some level like it’s all my fault.  I’ve been trying to be the voice of optimism, and focus externally on how we’ll get through it and everything will be okay.  It could be much worse.  If nothing else comes up, it will be very survivable.

I just spoke with the Disability Services Manager (or something like that) from my employer, though, and when she told me about another financial hit, I turned into a wet, tearful mess on the phone.  I’ve acknowledged that I’ve been putting off filling out the disability forms and making that particular phone call, but I hadn’t quite realized how much the whole thing was still eating at me.  I think in my attempts at previous survival, I’ve gotten quite adept at shoving things aside and burying them as quickly as possible.  Not so good for the long term benefit.

So I’m going to eat a peanut butter sandwich now (because finances are tight), and sit down for a minute to do something that isn’t work related to try to pull myself together (because finances are tight and that stresses me RIGHT THE FUCK OUT).

In an hour and a half I have to face down the contractor who’s trying to get out of fixing the damage his workers have done to our house and belongings.

Because I’m the together one right now.

And that stresses me right the fuck out.