New habits

I'm having trouble focusing today.

Yesterday I was running around a bunch, and by the time I tried to sit and focus on reading something, my reserve of focus was pretty shot.

Last night I chose Spaghettios over cooking, ate some candy and turned in early. Tried to read a novel, decided I was sick of it. Turned off the light, tossed, turned the light back on, cross stitched. Picked another novel from the shelf, started it, light off, fell asleep eventually.

This morning I feel right back where I started.

Maybe I need some more protein, it helps me to feel physically grounded, and so far I've had PopTarts and coffee today.

I've had a lot on the calendar this week, and I think too much busyness makes me feel, ironically, unproductive at times.

I've been really gung-ho about having a routine lately, and this week I've veered. Last Friday night I was telling my friend Jeremiah how good it's been for me to have a routine. I told him how one night last week I was in a funk, feeling the doom of loneliness and anxiety, fear, etc. creep in, and after I did some dishes and general tidying of the apartment I felt worlds better. I explained to him that I wasn't implying that cleaning was all I need to combat depression, but the fact that I had started to train myself to find equilibrium in continual habits and a basic standard of the physical habitat around me was showing its results very clearly in the emotional pick-me-up it provided that evening.

Another day recently I was telling my friend Jessica how this routine helps me get more things done. I used to think, for years, that putting together a schedule and having things on the calendar would make me feel fenced in, trapped. I thought that telling myself, "You will sort your sock drawer at 2 p.m. on Tuesday" (by the way, I don't usually write things with such specifics on my calendar) would make my life boring, suffocating; further, I thought it would make me a boring person. I think to some degree I thought it would make me even more depressed, feeling like I have to sort my sock drawer at 2 p.m. on Tuesday.

But the reality I've been finding is that when I keep up with basic chores--dishes, vacuuming, basic tidying--not only is there less to do each time, because I haven't let things pile up, but when I'm done I find that I still have blocks of time to have creative license to decide what I want to do with that time. Sometimes I sort papers or call someone to catch up, other times I paint my nails, watch a chick flick with a glass of wine.

I find myself doing a mix of productive and fun things, sometimes one in the same.

With this week's schedule, I have arrived at Friday feeling out of sorts, shaky, irritable.

Soon I will make a list. On that list I will decide how I will acquire protein, I will lay out time to tidy the apartment before heading out with friends. Hopefully by the time I reach those friends for drinks, I will feel better.

I'm banking on I probably will.

Hmm

Do you think it's possible to become more socially awkward, or socially anxious, with age?

Because, if so, I think I might be fitting that bill. Which I'm not sure I'm okay with...

Tuneage

I've been doing a lot of Pandora listening lately (and finding some gems, such as this (and speaking of gems, here's another that they're using for a video at my church)).

All this pressing of thumbs up and thumbs down buttons makes me think of a standardized test, the way the GRE adjusts to how well you're doing--or not--on the questions.

Jack Johnson? No thanks.

All right, Feist it is.

Why thank you, smart website.

And he's okay!

This morning I was petting Diblets (awesome way to kick off the day) and he was near the edge of the bed. As I was petting his belly, he did that little move where he pushes off of the air with his paws to move backward a little bit, in order to expose more belly to receive petting which covers a greater surface area. He's economical, my feline. And a capitalist, in terms of capitalizing on massage opportunities.

Well this morning as he was shimmying backward he fell off the bed.

Having natural cat reflexes, he flipped right over in the air and landed on his feet.

He stuck his landing, of course, with the classic nonchalant "I meant to do that" look that cats provide us with on somewhat frequent occasion.

Feb. 2

Today's one of my favorite days of the year, friends!

Groundhog Day!

I love that on my calendar, featuring pictures from the university, this holiday is one considered worthy of a mention on its little block of space on the page. 

Why do I like this holiday so much? 

Because it's ridiculous. It's really weird. Yet in my mind it's relatively harmless, thus it's just a really random excuse for fun. And we all know that January and February can be downer months, so why not inject a little frivolity and nonsense? 

People have issues with Valentine's Day--which I can understand, though I generally take the opportunity to enjoy free candy on Feb. 14--but I would hope some of those protesters would recognize that Groundhog Day does not discriminate against the non-romantically attached and offer the holiday at least one brownie point for that.

So go forth and examine your shadow (your literal shadow only, please. I don't want to prescribe a day of negative introspection for y'all, because I think you're pretty cool (well, assuming I know you)). Enjoy the mild winter weather if you have it (like we, thankfully, do currently here in mid-Missouri) and watch the classic Bill Murray flick if you have access to it. And embrace the silliness. 

Unless you want to be a grump about it, which, well, free country.