Monday, April 23, 2012


Timing is a funny thing (I'll give you a minute to let the profundity of that statement sink in). I don't think it often makes sense, at least not until much later down the road, which is problematic for me and my (sometimes neurotic) need for things to be logical. But every so often, timing surprises me. This morning was one of those moments. 

See, I'm a worrier. I generally don't discriminate with my worry. It encompasses most aspects of my life to some degree. Yes, I am aware that I'll probably die of a heart attack at age 35. In fact, I worry about how my worrying will affect my health.

This, by the way, is why I was completely unsuccessful at maintaining this position for more than approximately five minutes on Sunday. 

Exhausted after working seven straight days, and plagued by a case of the rainy day blues, I thought for sure I'd finally be content to sit still, watch some tv, just relax. Instead, I was propelled by stress, and ended up pinging around my apartment like one of the little metal balls in a pinball machine. 

It was a sight to behold, I'm sure, my bouncing around between washing dishes, painting my nails, putting away my clothes, and baking bread. This all consumed my time only until noon, by the way, when Sophie rescued me from my morning of pointless chores with an invitation to have brunch and watch hockey with friends. 

And so while I actually accomplished quite a lot yesterday, I got home after a lingering dinner with a friend and was kicking myself for how little I'd done (especially on the "packing for the move" front). The successful loaf of bread on my counter (more on that later) seemed trivial compared to, say, packing up my kitchen. 

I woke with the same sense of discontent this morning, and on my way in to work, I read this post from one of the many random blogs I read. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The author seems to share my proclivity for minimizing accomplishments, and often reaches a point in time (i.e. the end of March) and bemoans the lack of things she's done up to that point. So for this year, she decided to keep a running list each month of things she did manage to do, even if they were seemingly insignificant.

There's no question I need to (and plan to) take a page from her book (err, blog?). I have been especially critical of myself lately in terms of decisions and accomplishments, and there's just not enough room in my life right now for that kind of worry and stress. So, I'm going to follow Holly's lead and start giving myself credit for the little stuff. And the big stuff. Like finally getting parking permits for the moving truck that will transport my life from Arlington to DC on Friday. Go me.  

Now about that loan that still isn't final...           

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