However to finally push through and make something of the rest of my life I need to get into some good repetitive habits and loose a couple of bad ones. Now this isn't the first time I've tried this but the fact I'm writing about it would rather suggest it hasn't worked in the past.
As always most of my posts are written after a whirl around the web and this has been no different. However I haven't come up with anything that gives me the complete answer. Which while a little frustrating does lead me to believe I've hit on something. I don't intend to bore you with the whole plan. Which by the way isn't formed yet. What I have decided to do, is start the night before. So when I wake, there is already a small sense of achievement to kick start the day. I'll prepare my breakfast things (which I do most evenings) go to bed at a regular time (Sunday to Thursday nights will now be known as school nights) and read a little before I turn off my Disney night lite (only joking).
Onwards and upwards in the pursuit of fulfillment and happyness :-)
I know that it makes a HUGE difference to me to overplan and be over prepared. It cuts my anxiety... a defense mechanism, really.
ReplyDeleteMany friends and acquaintances admire my 'organization' but it's not a thing to admire, it's a hanging-by-my-fingernails attempt at keeping sane.
So I have my clothing laid out the night before. I have piles of index cards next to the bed, at my spot at the kitchen table, in my backpack and in the console of our car. So when I need to make lists, I can. I write stuff down way ahead of time.
I do not have a Disney night light.
What happens when things don't go to plan though?
ReplyDeleteI get over it. Sort of.
ReplyDeleteBut years later I will still obsess over minor details that caused my plans not to work out. "If only I'd _______."
I obsess. Often.
When I was teaching, colleagues used to come into my class and take one look at my desk. They would frown, shake their heads, sigh, or blatantly tell me I was a bad teacher setting a poor example to my children. My papers, stacked high or toppled and sprawling, seemed to be, in their eyes, directly linked to my capabilities. So frustrated was I, that I would remark that my desk only showed that I was more interested in teaching the children than making my desk pretty.
ReplyDeleteThey were, of course, right in some ways: not that I was a bad teacher, but that I was struggling under the weight of the job and the unnecessary paperwork. But my desk was not indicative of my teaching, but certainly of my philosophy at that time.
Now I think I have a little OCD about it all. Not that I have to organise much in life, but I will religiously write out all to be done and tick it with a smile. Things have a place, a home. The throw on the chair is smartened, the cushions straightened. It's nice, it's organised, it's all in place. And yet just sometimes I would like to return to the days when my success was not about a tick on the paper, but rather a smile on a face.
Or, better still, I would one day manage both.