Lately I've been trying to be more proactive, and just do the things that need to be done. This morning I woke up before five, but laid there thinking, this can't be real, I need more sleep. Last night my children went down to the clubhouse to take advantage of their internet services. It was after 10:30 when I sent my youngest a text asking where she was. Her sister doesn't have a phone at the moment, so I drove the two blocks south to go get her. I peered through the window, taking in the scene before me. A bag of Oreo bits or bites, the clever marketing scheme that twists the old standard, shrinking it, enlarging it, taking the sandwich cookies out of rows, reconfiguring them, changing the color, the filling, it seems there is no end to the creativity displayed by the creators. Meanwhile my daughter has her iPad and her laptop out. I knock on the window and she walks over to me.
When I explain that she needs to come home she tells me she has homework to finish. I tell her that she can't hang out at the clubhouse like this, and she asks why not. I tell her that's not what it's for, this is a parenting fail, and I need to come up with a better strategy because the one I've tried isn't working. It's after 11:00 when I lie down, the girls are in the bathroom, I'm so tired I feel ill, I took a cocktail of things to help me get some sleep, but I couldn't make it past five. Today is day two of my new job, I also have to go to my other job after that one, I'm anticipating a long day, and feel unprepared. Rather than bemoan my circumstances I get up and start making food. I put dishes in the dishwasher, look at the scattered papers on my counter, see my cluttered dining room table beyond that, and wonder how three people of our ages can be such slobs. This is depressing, but I keep moving forward, make rice, realize I put the cover to the pot in the dishwasher, improvise, and turn down the heat when the water starts boiling over onto my stove.
Last night I had a really good chat with my sister. We agree that getting ahead, or even keeping up, in life means that you have to do the things you don't want to do when you don't feel like doing them. There are no secrets, no shortcuts, no hacks, you just have find a way to do it. I make two salads, I steamed some vegetables. Slowly the food in my refrigerator is turning into meals. I'm proud of myself. I serve myself a bowl of beef, broccoli, squash, and drizzle leftover salad dressing on it. I add a bunch of rice, noticing that the batch I made has a layer that has adhered to the bottom of the pot. I fill it with water and go back to my breakfast, slicing half of an avocado over everything because I have one sitting out on the counter. We still have too many things. There are glass Mason jars in various sizes, purchased with the vague dream of parceling out foods into these clear containers that would transform our lives, and didn't.
My new job requires me to wear a collared shirt and dark jeans. I have two navy blue polo shirts, but only one pair of dark jeans. My new audiobook, 'How We Decide' has gotten to the subject of credit cards. I just signed up for a new one, and I can identify with what the author is saying about a gentleman named Herman who helps people, particularly single mothers, get back on track financially. It isn't me exactly, a lot of really smart people get in over their heads because credit cards are so simple and easy to use. I resolve to start using cash, and then immediately go to the grocery store for baking soda and Epsom salts. I forget to use my rewards card, flag down an employee, and he helps me run it before the charge goes through. Cash is inconvenient, but it is limited. I can't buy two hundred dollars of groceries if I only have a hundred dollars in my wallet. Ridiculously simple logic that I have failed to employ.
I do not want to exercise. I do not want to go to my new job. I want to lay back down, pull the covers over my head, and sleep for a million years. I remember that my therapist told me to write, and I haven't been lately. Getting a new job and preparing for that has taken more time, but this is merely an excuse. I have not managed my time well, and I can never retrieve that which was lost. It's 7:07 AM, my work day hasn't started yet, and I don't know how I am going to get through it. I take some vitamins and pray that they help. I never really know exactly what my body needs, it's like a shot in the dark coupled with some educated guesses. My allergies have been bad lately, I swallow the pills and start choking. I don't really want to die, but a part of me thinks that if I ended up cutting off my own airway on accident by taking pills designed to extend my life, perhaps there would be some situational irony in that. I resolve to keep doing the things that will get me where I want to go, and start doing them. It hurts and feels good.
Maybe you know what I mean.