I'm a pretty selfish person, and I say that with no amount of pride. In some ways, I feel stunted in the fact that - when it's all said and done- I'm thinking about whether things worked out the way I wanted them to or not. I'm selfish about a lot of things : my food (quit eating off of my plate & begging me for more! Quit taking the biggest, best piece of pizza/cobbler/chicken/etc ! Quit asking for a taste of whatever it is I'm eating!), my sleep (Quit getting me off schedule just because you want/don't want to do something) my music (I love that song and I don't care if I have the CD - I want to listen to it now). I swear, in my own head sometimes, I sound just like Veruca Salt from "Charlie & the Chocolate Factory".
I don't mean to be selfish. And though it doesn't sound like it, in regards to other people, I am very generous. At least I like to think I am. I try to remain considerate of others' needs, wants, abilities, personalities. I cry (literally) for the homeless, be they people or animals (one of the reasons why I cannot watch "Animal Cops" shows ; they just tear me up). I love my students and coworkers, family & friends, and most people in general. I want to help others, in any way I can. It makes me feel good to make others feel good. Which is why I recently decided to allow a practicum student into my classroom in upcoming weeks. I mentioned the fact that I am a selfish person because, truthfully, I don't want anyone disrupting my routine. It's not like I expect her to come in my room, sit in the back and start shooting spitballs or something. I know she's there to learn. Why, just a mere 8 -10 years ago- that was me. And I appreciated the fact that teachers would change their daily schedules & lesson plans to allow me access to their room where I would try to "teach" a lesson. But, I just don't want someone - ANYONE- in my room with my kids when I'm teaching. I'm thinking "Leave us alone, please!" But that's wrong. My room should be open to all. By the way, Jim Rex (State Superintendent of Ed) will be visiting our school this month - WOW! And even though it would be neat to have that kind of a big-wig in my room, at the same time I'm thinking, "Quit coming in to see everything I'm doing - we all know you're going to forget me as soon as you close the door".
It's ridiculous, I know. I know. I mean, I don't want to paint the picture that I'm an anti-social psychotic teaching nut. I really don't mind if anyone is observing or visiting in my room. I would just rather they didn't. I don't even like sharing my class with the other teachers. That's crazy!! I should welcome it! But deep down - waaaaaaayyyyy down- I don't. Maybe I'm slightly OCD, and it rocks my world to have to change things up so often. I am , afterall, a creature of habit. I love & thrive in routine. And to break this nasty habit of same-old/same-old, I am opting to have a practicum student in my room. She's going to observe a few lessons, and she has to teach 2 science lessons (luckily, that's Sandy's room). But I need this. It's time I gave back to all of those who opened their doors for some stupid doe-eyed Lander practicum student who didn't know what in the hell she was doing. You know what will happen? The day she comes to observe will be the day I get observed by the principal (who knows- maybe the State SuperI, too!)
So, I end this post with a pledge: I shall do my best to let go of the thought that my classroom is only MY classroom, and open it to those who want only to learn, to be taught, or to point out all of the things I did wrong.
(Let's be honest- what are teacher/admin observations for?)
Monday, October 13, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Hit the gym: Fo' Shizz!
Wednesday. I made it! Woo-Hoo! And I did it again- I just got on that fargin' elliptical, cranked up my MP3, and checked out into HeatherLand. I did it for 30 minutes at a pretty good, aerobic pace. The first 15 were ok, but for some reason, the next 10 took FOREVER. And it was only for 30 minutes! But, I made myself do the entire thirty. I didn't skimp out at minute 27 or 28. Right at 30:03, I stopped the machine, and walked down stairs where I walked the track two times to cool off. Then I went to the mat & did some really good yoga stretches on my legs. Every time I do it, I forget how good it feels to stretch. Some poses, like Pigeon and Double Pigeon, feel soooooo good on those outer thighs. It's such a release! Anyway, I just wanted to let you know - for the record- that I did officially hit my 3rd day at the gym this week. I don't know about you, but at this blog, we celebrate the little victories as much as the big ones. WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Monday, October 6, 2008
Hit the gym: check
Last week I made it to the gym a total of 2x. Monday and Tuesday. I was good, too. I did cardio for about 40 minutes on Monday, and then anything I could possibly remember from Pilates class for another 40 minutes on Tuesday. Wednesday I didn't go, because I wanted to rest & I had a crap-ton of school work to do. Thursday I didn't go because I forgot my stinkin' bag at home, and it would have taken an extra twenty to thirty minutes to run home & get it and THEN go to the gym, so I just went home instead. Friday I took my brother & his girlfriend to see Jim Gaffigan at Clemson. FUNNY!! Saturday was yoga in the a.m., followed by Sunday with yoga in the p.m. All of that to say, that today I hit the gym again. Second Monday in a row. I'm feeling pumped, and I will feel free to celebrate the small victory of two consecutive weeks of gym attendance. I plan on going to Pilates tomorrow night, following a luscious "brinner" dinner of whole wheat pancakes & scrambled egg product. Wednesday will be the big day- the THIRD day in a row. The deciding factor: will this be a week of promise or a week of failed dreams?? I'm gonna do it- it's gonna happen!!!!
There's all sorts of different information out there about exercise & nutrition & BMI and what not. I'm just gonna shoot for a goal of 30 -40 minutes of "working out" a week. They may be cardio, it may be Pilates, it may be walking/running intervals. Who knows? I have to change it up though, or else I'll go bored out of my skull. Then I won't come back until an additional 7 pounds has crept up. And if I don't have my MP3 player? Forget it. I'll just go home & take a short walk after dinner. I don't know about anyone else, but I've got to have my music. It keeps me motivated, and I'm just OCD enough to try to match my walk/run/ breathing pattern with the rhythm of the music.
But there is something I have discovered: I have endurance. What kind of endurance, I don't know. I was on the dreaded elliptical (I hate it because it never fails to make my feet feel hot & cramped) and was really going. Maybe 67 rotations per minute. Really hoppin'. And I was watching news channel 4 and concentrating on reading the closed captioning and keeping my breathing pattern the same......and it hit me. I had been doing this for almost fifteen minutes, and it didn't feel like it. I felt like I could have kept going at that pace forever. I had found a rhythm and a "zone", for lack of a better word. And I just kept going. Then, my goal turned into "keep this rhythm up until it's time to go". And I did! Well, for the most part. I did wimp out at the last 6 minutes, but really it was because my feet were hot, and my chest was hurting (never mind I was convinced I was on the verge of a heart attack. That's an anxiety-disorder, for you!) But I did it, and it made me feel good in the discovery that I could make my body do something while my brain checks out. Not completely, of course, since a large part of what I'm doing is for my mental wellbeing. I hope to not only lose weight, but also find a way to replace my anxiety medication w/ regular exercise, as much as possible. But I could give my body a job, find a rhythm it could work with and concentrate on, and then......fly off anywhere in my mind. It was enlightening, to say the least!
So, for any gym rats out there, keep it up. I'm sweating along with you, and hating it as much. Just pony up on that treadmill, look those step machines in the eye, and think..... "Semper Fi"
Oooh - Ra!! (as they say in the Marines)
There's all sorts of different information out there about exercise & nutrition & BMI and what not. I'm just gonna shoot for a goal of 30 -40 minutes of "working out" a week. They may be cardio, it may be Pilates, it may be walking/running intervals. Who knows? I have to change it up though, or else I'll go bored out of my skull. Then I won't come back until an additional 7 pounds has crept up. And if I don't have my MP3 player? Forget it. I'll just go home & take a short walk after dinner. I don't know about anyone else, but I've got to have my music. It keeps me motivated, and I'm just OCD enough to try to match my walk/run/ breathing pattern with the rhythm of the music.
But there is something I have discovered: I have endurance. What kind of endurance, I don't know. I was on the dreaded elliptical (I hate it because it never fails to make my feet feel hot & cramped) and was really going. Maybe 67 rotations per minute. Really hoppin'. And I was watching news channel 4 and concentrating on reading the closed captioning and keeping my breathing pattern the same......and it hit me. I had been doing this for almost fifteen minutes, and it didn't feel like it. I felt like I could have kept going at that pace forever. I had found a rhythm and a "zone", for lack of a better word. And I just kept going. Then, my goal turned into "keep this rhythm up until it's time to go". And I did! Well, for the most part. I did wimp out at the last 6 minutes, but really it was because my feet were hot, and my chest was hurting (never mind I was convinced I was on the verge of a heart attack. That's an anxiety-disorder, for you!) But I did it, and it made me feel good in the discovery that I could make my body do something while my brain checks out. Not completely, of course, since a large part of what I'm doing is for my mental wellbeing. I hope to not only lose weight, but also find a way to replace my anxiety medication w/ regular exercise, as much as possible. But I could give my body a job, find a rhythm it could work with and concentrate on, and then......fly off anywhere in my mind. It was enlightening, to say the least!
So, for any gym rats out there, keep it up. I'm sweating along with you, and hating it as much. Just pony up on that treadmill, look those step machines in the eye, and think..... "Semper Fi"
Oooh - Ra!! (as they say in the Marines)
Thursday, October 2, 2008
I think, therefore I procrastinate
I had all these good intentions: I was going to get all of my lesson plans done so I could just enjoy my weekend with no paperwork. And then, I got home. And I sat down. And the Hubs and me laid on the bed and chitchatted for a bit. And the more I sat/laid down, the more it became apparent that I just wasn't going to work. At all. It's going to sit there until Sunday, MAYBE Saturday while Matt works. It will sit there, and I will do it when I feel the pressure on me, which is when I do my best work.
Besides, it's just a bunch of BS anyway. I have to have this gay crap like "intro", "materials","& "closing" in each lesson plan. (P.S- my lesbian friend told me it was ok to describe things as gay if, and I quote, "if they're queer, then they're queer. What's the big deal?") I mean, I literally have to write/say in my intro "Today we will...." and then in my closing I have to use the "today we/tomorrow we will" format. For example: "Today we learned how homesteaders used the environment to help them survive. Tomorrow, we will learn about another type of homesteader called an exoduster." Whatever. I really, really wish people would just leave me alone & let me teach. Which, according to many people (and I include some teachers in this) is something I should NOT want. My old principal asked us in a grade level meeting one time, "Do you need my help or do you want me to just leave you alone and let you teach?" I really did almost say "yes!". Somehow, though, that response is wrong. I guess I'm supposed to want help, want collaboration, want input, want "constructive criticism". But I don't. I'm not saying I don't want to work or collaborate with my coworkers or even my admin. For the most part, I enjoy working with them and getting input. But at the end of the day (or, actually, the beginning) I really want to take everything I've gleaned from everyone, shut my classroom door, and do my job w/out anyone else bothering me. And if that's wrong of me, then fine. I'm wrong.
As a side note, I am currently in the process of losing weight, or rather, trying to lose weight. Within the past year I have developed a touch of hypothyroidism (in a nutshell, my 'roid isn't keeping up with its duties, per se), and I started my lifelong regimen of thyroid medication. That being said, before I found out about this underproductive part of my body, I was constantly tired, constantly hungry, and constantly gaining weight. And of course, its all in the lower belly/waist/ ass/ thigh region. Why, oh, why could it have not accumulated at my boobs? At any rate, it's there and mocking me on a daily basis. "Psst! Remember when you were in high school and you only weighed 110? You'll never see those days again! Oops! Another pocket of cellulite! And how about - for shits and giggles- we add a good 7 pounds around your waist so all of those new pants you just bought feel like garote wire, all the while making you look 5 months pregnant?!" It's horrible to feel this way because A) I've always been petite and this just reminds me on a daily basis that my body is rejecting everything that ever reminded it of youthfulness, and B) I feel guilty for feeling bad about feeling like I'm overweight. Confusing? I feel bad about feeling like I've gained weight (which is a scientific fact- I HAVE gained weight) because I feel like I don't have the right to feel bad. According to other people, I look the same, so why should I complain, right? I have to live with this body. I have to feel the rolls that are growing at my sides and hips, even if you don't think they're there. They are. I have to shimmy into the pants (that just fit last week ) on the bed, and deal with not being able to breathe when I bend over. I have to feel that nasty 4 inch roll of skin and whatnot that overhangs my pants line every day. I have to look down and see my gut consistently poking out, only to suck it back in and much as I can and tell myself "It's an ab workout." I have to remind myself that every woman on the planet, even the ones on the cover of "US Weekly" have cellulite, and if they don't it's only because they paid someone to remove it. Why am I obsessed? I wish I knew.
So I will have to be much more consistent in my gym attendance, as well as my snacking/cravings. I snack all the time, and never realize it. And I'm ravenous in the mornings and evenings, which causes me to eat like I haven't in weeks. Slowly but surely, I'm working on it, and trying to achieve small goals. This first small goal: hit the gym no less than 3x a week - and yoga doesn't count. I mean it does, but not towards this. After that goal, I'll work myself up into a goal dealing w/ my actual workout program. My final goal is my reward: if I lose about 8-10 pounds, and have developed exercise & eating habits that I can acceptably & reasonably live with..... I will get a tatoo. It's true. I'm going to get a peacock feather. I figure all the time I'm going to spend running/ lifting/ walking/ ab-bing this work off will give me a chance to figure out where it's going to go.......
Besides, it's just a bunch of BS anyway. I have to have this gay crap like "intro", "materials","& "closing" in each lesson plan. (P.S- my lesbian friend told me it was ok to describe things as gay if, and I quote, "if they're queer, then they're queer. What's the big deal?") I mean, I literally have to write/say in my intro "Today we will...." and then in my closing I have to use the "today we/tomorrow we will" format. For example: "Today we learned how homesteaders used the environment to help them survive. Tomorrow, we will learn about another type of homesteader called an exoduster." Whatever. I really, really wish people would just leave me alone & let me teach. Which, according to many people (and I include some teachers in this) is something I should NOT want. My old principal asked us in a grade level meeting one time, "Do you need my help or do you want me to just leave you alone and let you teach?" I really did almost say "yes!". Somehow, though, that response is wrong. I guess I'm supposed to want help, want collaboration, want input, want "constructive criticism". But I don't. I'm not saying I don't want to work or collaborate with my coworkers or even my admin. For the most part, I enjoy working with them and getting input. But at the end of the day (or, actually, the beginning) I really want to take everything I've gleaned from everyone, shut my classroom door, and do my job w/out anyone else bothering me. And if that's wrong of me, then fine. I'm wrong.
As a side note, I am currently in the process of losing weight, or rather, trying to lose weight. Within the past year I have developed a touch of hypothyroidism (in a nutshell, my 'roid isn't keeping up with its duties, per se), and I started my lifelong regimen of thyroid medication. That being said, before I found out about this underproductive part of my body, I was constantly tired, constantly hungry, and constantly gaining weight. And of course, its all in the lower belly/waist/ ass/ thigh region. Why, oh, why could it have not accumulated at my boobs? At any rate, it's there and mocking me on a daily basis. "Psst! Remember when you were in high school and you only weighed 110? You'll never see those days again! Oops! Another pocket of cellulite! And how about - for shits and giggles- we add a good 7 pounds around your waist so all of those new pants you just bought feel like garote wire, all the while making you look 5 months pregnant?!" It's horrible to feel this way because A) I've always been petite and this just reminds me on a daily basis that my body is rejecting everything that ever reminded it of youthfulness, and B) I feel guilty for feeling bad about feeling like I'm overweight. Confusing? I feel bad about feeling like I've gained weight (which is a scientific fact- I HAVE gained weight) because I feel like I don't have the right to feel bad. According to other people, I look the same, so why should I complain, right? I have to live with this body. I have to feel the rolls that are growing at my sides and hips, even if you don't think they're there. They are. I have to shimmy into the pants (that just fit last week ) on the bed, and deal with not being able to breathe when I bend over. I have to feel that nasty 4 inch roll of skin and whatnot that overhangs my pants line every day. I have to look down and see my gut consistently poking out, only to suck it back in and much as I can and tell myself "It's an ab workout." I have to remind myself that every woman on the planet, even the ones on the cover of "US Weekly" have cellulite, and if they don't it's only because they paid someone to remove it. Why am I obsessed? I wish I knew.
So I will have to be much more consistent in my gym attendance, as well as my snacking/cravings. I snack all the time, and never realize it. And I'm ravenous in the mornings and evenings, which causes me to eat like I haven't in weeks. Slowly but surely, I'm working on it, and trying to achieve small goals. This first small goal: hit the gym no less than 3x a week - and yoga doesn't count. I mean it does, but not towards this. After that goal, I'll work myself up into a goal dealing w/ my actual workout program. My final goal is my reward: if I lose about 8-10 pounds, and have developed exercise & eating habits that I can acceptably & reasonably live with..... I will get a tatoo. It's true. I'm going to get a peacock feather. I figure all the time I'm going to spend running/ lifting/ walking/ ab-bing this work off will give me a chance to figure out where it's going to go.......
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I'm so vain, and I know this blog is about me.
So I've come to accept that I shall be 30 this December, and right now, I'm ok with it. 30's a big deal, afterall. Not quite like 40 or even 50, but a big deal nonetheless. It's like "real" adulthood. I feel like anyone in their 20's still has that "I'm an ignorant dumbass when it comes to this stuff" card in their pocket, and it's legit to pull it out every now and then at opportune times : buying a car all by yourself without a co-signer, setting up (or maybe not setting up) an IRA or retirement fund, doing your own taxes, hemming your own clothes. Whatever. But 30. It's like the gig is up, and you're either a full grown, fully functional adult or a brainless twerp who doesn't know where the hell he is in life. I'm lucky in that, I am in a job that I feel like I'm meant to be in. And I'm married to a great man (don't worry, I've gotten over the wrath I had a blog or two ago) whose knowledge in many things makes up for my lack of. I'm happy and content with my life now, and I hope to have a baby in the next year or two.
And even though on paper 30 looks old, I know it's not. I mean, Drew Barrymore is 30 something and she looks great. I'd never think of her as old. Some good friends of mine are in their 30's, and they certainly don't seem old. I think my biggest two worries are: 1) I'll FEEL old. 2) I'll be expected to have knowledge about crap I know nothing about. Let's be honest - I've got no clue what it takes to buy a house. I mean, I know the basics & some terminology (mortgage, ARM vs. FRM, equity, escrow) but I have no idea what else that entails. I know nothing about how to cook a Thanksgiving turkey - I can't even make homemade biscuits. I dont' know how to "rip" stuff to or off of a computer. I have no idea in the world who I'm voting for in Nov (DONT' YOU DARE SEND ME YOUR PROPAGANDA, PLEASE!!) I feel like there is tons of stuff I should have learned by now that I haven't, and that somehow, I'll still be seen as a little girl.
Which is something I struggle with a lot, and I include struggling with myself in that. I fight myself on a daily basis to assert the fact that I am a grown up. I'm a woman, not a girl. I have to tell myself that everyone else sees me as a grown woman, why can't you see yourself that way? I still feel like a 14 year old when I have to speak with my principal or even some of my parents. Uggh!!! WTH???? I really thought I would have outgrown this by now. If anyone else out there is struggling with this type of inferiority complex, feel free to comment.
So, I end this with a tribute, of sorts. To my 20's : they were fun, they were turbulent, they were drama riddled. They were the best of times, the worst of times, and everything in between. Here's the girl I was, the woman I am, and all that I hope to be.
Cheers.
And even though on paper 30 looks old, I know it's not. I mean, Drew Barrymore is 30 something and she looks great. I'd never think of her as old. Some good friends of mine are in their 30's, and they certainly don't seem old. I think my biggest two worries are: 1) I'll FEEL old. 2) I'll be expected to have knowledge about crap I know nothing about. Let's be honest - I've got no clue what it takes to buy a house. I mean, I know the basics & some terminology (mortgage, ARM vs. FRM, equity, escrow) but I have no idea what else that entails. I know nothing about how to cook a Thanksgiving turkey - I can't even make homemade biscuits. I dont' know how to "rip" stuff to or off of a computer. I have no idea in the world who I'm voting for in Nov (DONT' YOU DARE SEND ME YOUR PROPAGANDA, PLEASE!!) I feel like there is tons of stuff I should have learned by now that I haven't, and that somehow, I'll still be seen as a little girl.
Which is something I struggle with a lot, and I include struggling with myself in that. I fight myself on a daily basis to assert the fact that I am a grown up. I'm a woman, not a girl. I have to tell myself that everyone else sees me as a grown woman, why can't you see yourself that way? I still feel like a 14 year old when I have to speak with my principal or even some of my parents. Uggh!!! WTH???? I really thought I would have outgrown this by now. If anyone else out there is struggling with this type of inferiority complex, feel free to comment.
So, I end this with a tribute, of sorts. To my 20's : they were fun, they were turbulent, they were drama riddled. They were the best of times, the worst of times, and everything in between. Here's the girl I was, the woman I am, and all that I hope to be.
Cheers.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Pump up the Jam - skating rink style
I'm listening to one of those cable music stations - the good ones, not like crappy VH1. This one is dedicated to one of the best decades of music ever. Yes, folks, I mean the 90's. It's the best station to listen to for a few reasons.
1) I know most, if not all , of the songs played & can thus sing them all shamelessly.
2) It's that weird mix of pop, rock, grunge, pseudo-Techno, ballads, and alternative that helped define a better part of me. Seriously- what memory comes to your mind when you hear Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" ?
My father-in-law is coming to visit this weekend, and his timing is perfect. I say that with sarcasm dripping at the corners. My long range plans are due tomorrow, but they won't be turned in simply because I'm not finished and I refuse to kill myself over them. I am having to clean our pig sty of an apartment by myself since dear husband is working his last night shift rotation for the next six weeks. I have lesson plans for next week that need to be completed (I would like to do them now & not have to worry about them over the weekend, but oh well). I'm going to have a crap ton of papers to grade. I need to buy a new shower curtain liner because the one in the guest bathroom is pretty skanky looking, plus I need to buy a few groceries for Saturday morning breakfast. ... the list goes on.
I was looking forward to having a weekend with Matthew all to myself now that he can start keeping a normal sleeping schedule. But - that is not to be. Don't get me wrong, I love my FiL. He's a great guy- funny, generous, very unpretentious. Though it does bother me that his wife (my stepMiL) hasn't come down here except for our wedding two years ago. I asked Matthew if she was coming and he said, "Probably not. If she did, they'd be staying in a hotel and not with us." Which kind of hurt my feelings a little bit. We seem to get along great, and she's never been anything but kind to me, but I can't help but feel sort of - oh, I don't know- inferior or something. But instead of overanalyzing it, I'll consider it her loss and assume that it's because of her OCD that she is not coming down. Who knows the real reason.
So, back to the 90's music. I mentioned it because I am currently in the process of cleaning my apartment and excellent 90's music seemed to be the action soundtrack that I needed to motivate me. I can totally vacuum the entire house if I can do it to LL Cool J's "Round the Way Girl". Couldn't you??
1) I know most, if not all , of the songs played & can thus sing them all shamelessly.
2) It's that weird mix of pop, rock, grunge, pseudo-Techno, ballads, and alternative that helped define a better part of me. Seriously- what memory comes to your mind when you hear Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" ?
My father-in-law is coming to visit this weekend, and his timing is perfect. I say that with sarcasm dripping at the corners. My long range plans are due tomorrow, but they won't be turned in simply because I'm not finished and I refuse to kill myself over them. I am having to clean our pig sty of an apartment by myself since dear husband is working his last night shift rotation for the next six weeks. I have lesson plans for next week that need to be completed (I would like to do them now & not have to worry about them over the weekend, but oh well). I'm going to have a crap ton of papers to grade. I need to buy a new shower curtain liner because the one in the guest bathroom is pretty skanky looking, plus I need to buy a few groceries for Saturday morning breakfast. ... the list goes on.
I was looking forward to having a weekend with Matthew all to myself now that he can start keeping a normal sleeping schedule. But - that is not to be. Don't get me wrong, I love my FiL. He's a great guy- funny, generous, very unpretentious. Though it does bother me that his wife (my stepMiL) hasn't come down here except for our wedding two years ago. I asked Matthew if she was coming and he said, "Probably not. If she did, they'd be staying in a hotel and not with us." Which kind of hurt my feelings a little bit. We seem to get along great, and she's never been anything but kind to me, but I can't help but feel sort of - oh, I don't know- inferior or something. But instead of overanalyzing it, I'll consider it her loss and assume that it's because of her OCD that she is not coming down. Who knows the real reason.
So, back to the 90's music. I mentioned it because I am currently in the process of cleaning my apartment and excellent 90's music seemed to be the action soundtrack that I needed to motivate me. I can totally vacuum the entire house if I can do it to LL Cool J's "Round the Way Girl". Couldn't you??
Friday, September 5, 2008
The List of Sisyphus
I chose the title of this post because it best represents how I feel : a list of things to do that, when accomplished, only repeat themselves, causing one to live the "hamster wheel" existence of running towards a goal that will never actually be yours. I have many, many lists in my head. Lists of things I need to do for school this week. Lists of books I need to read to help me with said school. Lists of things I need to clean/ dump/ reorganize/ buy/ salvage/ replace. Lists of places I want to go one day. Lists of names for my future children (closely followed by Lists of names NOT to name my children- more on that later). Lists of future Christmas gifts. Lists of books I want to read. Lists of exercises & regimens & recipes & diets that I really should do / follow/ cook /eat. Lists of topics to talk about. I have lists of lists. Listing is my nature - I really do like doing it. It makes me feel like my goals & objectives are attainable; afterall , they are right there on paper, in my hands. But I'm not going to write down every single thing in my brain. First of all - can you imagine how much paper that would be? Second of all, there's no way I would remember what list has what. Oh sure, the list of "Books to Read" seems pretty easy, but what if I put a book down that someone says "Oh, you have to read it!" and then, months later, I look at that title and say "What the hell is this? Am I supposed to read this? " Really, that book should have been on the list "Recommended Books to Read" followed by a catalogue of who recommended it & a brief summary. So, you can see my conundrum here. No list of lists for me.
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