Author: jenzug

The Tongue, it is for speaking.

Who knew that simply communicating could be so useful.

I’m feeling a little melancholy about Christmas this year and haven’t been too excited about shopping or decorating. This is highly unusual for me, so I figured I would regret it down the road if I ignored Christmas this year.

I began feeling bitter at the thought that Bryan might wait around for me to do something, instead of just being excited about it himself and getting me into it.

Then I realized how ridiculous it was for me to become bitter about a hypothetical situation that hadn’t even come to fruition. Yet.

Then I realized that (duh) the best way to head off this hypothetical situation was to just TALK to Bryan about how I was feeling (thank you, Jenny, for pointing out the obvious to me – Have you ever thought of talking to him? She asked. She knows me well, that I would rather steep in the bitterness of unmet expectations than communicate my feelings).

So I IM’d Bryan at work and said, I’m depressed and not really into Christmas this year, but I know I’ll regret that decision later so I really need you to be into it this year for my sake.

Know what he said?

He said, Let’s get a tree tonight, then.

I so love him.

And I’m a dork.

The Life Cycle of a Procrastinator

Bryan says my procrastination turns him into the enemy, that it defeats our missional purpose as a family.

This got me thinking about the life cycle of my procrastination. Since Bryan is so into Pattern Recognition as a way of life, I thought he would appreciate the following confession:

    1. I feel overwhelmed by something
    2. My fear paralyzes me and I do nothing
    3. I feel guilty about dropping the ball, and I hide the problem from Bryan
    4. When Bryan discovers the problem, he confronts me, and I react in bitterness
    5. And it makes me feel like a failure
    6. And I become angry
    7. And blame circumstances or other people without taking responsibility for myself
    8. Which causes me to throw things in the general vicinity of Bryan

So… if admitting you have a problem is half the battle, NOW what do I do?

Why Did I Do That?

I didn’t do much of any consequence today. Or maybe it just feels like I didn’t because the one thing I DID do knocked me out for the rest of the day.

I went to Costco.

At lunch time.

With both my children in tow.

Which wouldn’t have been a problem had I thought to bring snacks.

I should start a category titled “Things That Annoy Me” like dooce has, because my first entry would read: People who block traffic in the middle of the parking lot waiting for you to load your two children and three hundred dollars worth of warehouse sized boxes into your car by yourself in the rain while they sit patiently inside their car sipping coffee and do not offer to help the 5’2” lady with the twisted spine of stress.

Shout Out

I read this post over at Node Glue and it got me thinking about the way I follow my favorite blogs.

I’m a selfish and impatient blog reader. I’m too lazy to follow links, and I’m too uninterested to comment on other people’s posts, or even read comments others have posted on the blogs I read. What a bitch I am.

Blog world, I am sorry. I repent. I will quit lurking and begin to engage.

What about you? Are you reading this post? Have you been following my blog? Step up to the challenge and post a quick shout out in my comments to let me know you’re there!

I dare you.

Foiled

I used to get up every morning at 6am to have coffee with Bryan before he went to work, then I would have time to write or pay bills before the kids woke up. I haven’t done that for awhile for various reasons, including the baby I had who woke for night feedings.

Sunday night after a long, difficult, fruitful conversation, I decided I was ready again for a dose of Bryan in the morning. So I set my alarm for 6am.

Damn if I didn’t predict in the back of my mind that Ruthie would do what she did that night. Was it a self-fulfilling prophecy or a freaky coincidence?

Not only did Ruthie stand at her gate at 3am demanding a snuggle, but after snuggling and putting her back to bed again SHE WOKE UP A SECOND TIME at 4:45 demanding ANOTHER SNUGGLE.

Because of the night I had to shut my alarm off, and I managed to get an extra hour of sleep, but I missed my coffee time with Bryan.

When I told him what happened he said, “You POISONED it!”

I think he may have a point.

[Did you hear that, Bryan? I conceded to the possibility that you may be rrr… rriii… correct.]

Today I Fell In Love With My Chiropractor

I tend to have long-term monogamous relationships with my chiropractors. My last one started around 1999, and sadly, I’ve had to move on.

Because I’ve moved to a location in South Seattle somewhere close to Portland, and because I’ve birthed two children who dictate my schedule, I am no longer able to maintain the free-spirited relationship we once had.

I had to break it off.

Meeting a new one has been a difficult and long journey. I’ve met some nice ones but have not been able to commit to an X-ray transfer.

Until today.

Today I felt a connection with my new chiropractor. He understands me, and oh how good he makes me feel. He has won me over, and I am ready to commit to another long-term monogamous relationship.

Can Someone Please, Just Make It Stop.

Look at me go.

I just figured out how to change the font, making it easier to read. Plus I updated my Blog Pile list a little.

I needed something mundane and technical to focus on to calm the crazies in my head. It seems to have done the trick since the anxiety has left and I’m breathing normal again.

A doctor once told me that I carry my stress in the muscles in my upper back, and that if the stress became too great the muscles would actually pull my spine out of alignment.

I’ve been to the chiropractor three days a week lately, so you do the math.

Ah, what is depression by default vs. depression by choice… that seems to be the question of the hour. One implies a hormonal death spiral, the other a mood based on circumstance.

How does one know? How does one know when to just buck up, cheer up, and shut up?

Does a hormonal death spiral see a milestone? Does it see the light at the end of the tunnel? Will a good chuckle shake it off? I really want to know.

While I appreciate the IDEA behind this Recipe for Peace, does it work if you’re baking the Crazy Cake? Vining writes…

Worn down by each day’s responsibilities and worries, I longed to be enveloped in the “peace of God”—that deep serenity of soul where calm and joy grow. But I had to admit, in the many years I’d been a Christian, I couldn’t say that peace had characterized my life. Was this “peace” the Bible spoke of just some cold, distant theological doctrine, or something I could actually experience now?

I am overwhelmed and filled with chaos in my mind.

Scott Berkun best describes how I feel in this post about the Data Death Spiral. He says it begins like this…

The spiral begins with ignorance. Leaders confuse the collection of research with thought. People who throw more data (not better) at problems are rewarded and others follow. Soon no idea can be suggested without a data armory. Meetings are data battlegrounds. Or worse, data massacres. When someone says “Morale is low. People are crying in the halls. We must do something.” another says “but where is your data?” and the conversation ends.

I had a very cathartic experience reading both of these essays.

One gave me insight into where I might find Peace, and the other helped me understand myself and the struggle within my mind.

Lexicon

Being married to a tech geek has increased my vocabulary.

It used to be that I was just too tired to engage, but now I don’t have the bandwidth to finish the conversation.

I used to operate from a To-Do list on my refrigerator, but now I consult my GTD add-in.

I used try, try again, but now we iterate.

And where I used to make personal change in my life, I now must evolve.

Procrastination?

As I mentioned earlier, today I did nothing.

But after reading Julie Leung’s post from today, I realize that I accomplished more than I thought I did. I just made choices.

It is difficult to let go of goals. Each day I am teaching myself to pry my fingers off of my expectations and to hold onto the moment, elusive and ephemeral, the way one would hold a butterfly in the hand. Perhaps one could say I am procrastinating, postponing what I should be doing.

I may not have cleaned the bathroom, swept and mopped, or figured out what I’m making for dinner tomorrow – which were all things on my Outlook task list – but I cranked up the music and danced with Ruthie. And I sat with her and colored for over an hour. And we built a Duplo-tower.

So now my tasks will all appear in RED letters tomorrow because they are not done, but considering that my obsession for Getting Things Done is often the source of my frustration with Ruthie I think the trade off was worth it.

Blah

I’ve been moving slow this week. Bryan was gone all weekend at a geek thing so Ruthie and I spent a lot of time in our pajamas. And today I don’t have a car to go anywhere, so once again we are still in our pajamas.

It seems I’m becoming That Wife who lets herself go, wearing raggedy sweat pants, bed head, no make-up, and a spit-up stained shirt. I’m waiting for someone to turn me in to What Not to Wear – although I think I could live with the humiliation in exchange for a $5K NY shopping spree.

I’ve become listless and unmotivated again, and don’t even look forward to play dates with friends anymore. I just want to sit in my pajamas, alone, in front of the t.v. and eat chocolate chip cookies and drink lots of wine. I’m wondering if the Zoloft is wearing off, or maybe I’m just using depression as an excuse to be lazy.

How does one figure these things out?

I’m chubby, and it’s finally getting to me. You can only use the I Just Had A Baby excuse, or the I Have To Keep Up the Calories for Nursing excuse for so long before people raise their eyebrows at your third bowl of cereal for dinner.

I think what finally got to me was looking through the Eddie Bauer holiday catalogue that came to me in the mail. I love Eddie Bauer clothes, but I realized as I looked through it that I still picture myself as looking the way I did before Ruthie was born. I have been in denial of my reality. I have become the person I secretly mock and judge when I see her at the mall – the chubby girl who still dresses as if she’s skinny.

But that’s not the only thing that horrifies me. What is most horrifying to me right now is that I just don’t give a damn. I don’t care what I eat, what I wear, or who sees me doing it.

I just don’t care.