I’m about to be mean to myself. But I’m hoping to find some light at the end of the tunnel, er, post. So hang with me.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted, and that makes me sad for a few reasons. Let’s put aside the fact that there’s a chance that no one else but me gives a damn that I write, and that’s fine. But writing and posting is also (and mostly) for me. It makes me happy. It’s mine. So why does my brain betray me when it comes to this, and other things I try to do for myself that are meant to help me grow into a better wife, better mom, better friend, better person?
Is anyone else out there making stupid lists of stuff that they should be doing to be better? Because I’m a bleeping PRO at writing these lists.
“Write. Journal. Paint. Sleep better. Wake up earlier. Connect with Marc. Pick out clothes for the next day. Do some yoga. Or any exercise, like, at all. Make an effort to look put together. Cook better. Eat better. Spend less. Fix hair. Don’t eat donuts. Don’t buy things we don’t need. Be positive. Be organized. Be understanding. Read. Clean the house more. Iron Marc’s shirts. Be nicer. Pay bills off. Save money. Pray.”
Those are all good ideas, right? So why do I come home, get Maggie to bed, crawl into bed myself, watch YouTube videos, and pin the shit out of some great ideas on Pinterest instead? And why are there some nights that my prayer is a shrug and a “Sorry, God. Goodnight.”
When I fail at “the list,” I check out of my own brain and into Hotel Distraction. Facebook, YouTube, Pinterest, or any other place that will keep my mind occupied on anything but my failure, until it’s time to go to bed. At least I know this about myself now, so when I start to feel this way, I can slide out of bed, stand in front of Marc and say, “It’s here. Help me, please.” (AND HE DOES. God, I love him.)
So what the hell is the point in keeping a list like that makes me feel like shit sometimes?
I think the point in keeping the list is a reminder of this: There are 1,000 things I could be doing to be better every day. But I don’t. And that’s okay. Sometimes I suck. And that’s okay, too. There are also 1,000 things I might be doing right, and that’s what I’m learning to really, truly focus on.
If you have a “list” somewhere, I hope you work through it patiently. Because I’m pretty sure we’re awesome for even trying to be better. I commit to continue teaching myself that failing at any one thing on the list doesn’t mean I fail at everything.
I also commit to eating donuts. Only sometimes.