Get Your Shit Together Report
(a/k/a Damn You, Australian Open)
(a/k/a Damn You, Australian Open)
Day 10
There's something uniquely mortifying about setting a goal for yourself and failing at it. Publicly. But there it is. For those of you following along, I had two pieces of bread and butter, two slices of bacon and some pound cake for dinner last night. My trainer at my gym keeps telling me that food is 80% of weight loss. No kidding. I have been pretty vigilant about my exercise, so that's a mercy.
As far as projects go, it seriously seems like I am doomed. I have terrible sinus from allergies (waahh). The Australian Open is on (hooray). These two things combine to equal staying up way too late and waking up with a raging headache. Those to things necessitate getting the kids off, taking seventeen Advil, and going back to sleep until I can hold my head upright. Those three things conspire to prevent me from getting a full day's work in. I can get the day-to-day done, but anything extra is cast to the winds. And I'm serious. In 10 days, I've finished a scarf. That's it. And it was 7/8ths done to start with.
Part of the problem, too, is that I'd rather do fun stuff. Like bake. A dear friend's dad died this past weekend, so I wanted to take a little something by. So I baked bread, made two different kinds of muffins, and canned some strawberry jam. Like some kind of crazy, manic pioneer, I sweated and stewed over all this business. And it was great.
But great don't refinish the dining room chairs. You don't have dining room chairs, you ask? Of course I do. I have the crazy modern chairs that went with my old dining room set before I got my grandmother's George Jetson cherry table. Last summer, yes, that would be the summer of 2011,( I prefer to call it last summer because it makes me feel better), I bought some fabulous chairs. They are the perfect shape, if a little beat up, and the price was right. I was going to immediately go home, give them some TLC, change the chair pads, and voila, they'd be perfect! They're still in the garage. Nineteen months later, they've moved from the shed to the garage. And they only moved there because we tore down the old shed and built a new one. All in the time since I bought the chairs. Damn it.
And that's not the worst part. This weekend, I went to see my darling, dear friend from high school, who in addition to a great farm and beautiful taste has an antique business on the side. When we went by to see the place, there were the most perfect chairs for my dining room. Almost as perfect as the chairs I already bought. And I almost bought them. It's like some kind of sickness.
I think it's time to get moving. I've only got 11 more days.
Better hustle.
As far as projects go, it seriously seems like I am doomed. I have terrible sinus from allergies (waahh). The Australian Open is on (hooray). These two things combine to equal staying up way too late and waking up with a raging headache. Those to things necessitate getting the kids off, taking seventeen Advil, and going back to sleep until I can hold my head upright. Those three things conspire to prevent me from getting a full day's work in. I can get the day-to-day done, but anything extra is cast to the winds. And I'm serious. In 10 days, I've finished a scarf. That's it. And it was 7/8ths done to start with.
Part of the problem, too, is that I'd rather do fun stuff. Like bake. A dear friend's dad died this past weekend, so I wanted to take a little something by. So I baked bread, made two different kinds of muffins, and canned some strawberry jam. Like some kind of crazy, manic pioneer, I sweated and stewed over all this business. And it was great.
But great don't refinish the dining room chairs. You don't have dining room chairs, you ask? Of course I do. I have the crazy modern chairs that went with my old dining room set before I got my grandmother's George Jetson cherry table. Last summer, yes, that would be the summer of 2011,( I prefer to call it last summer because it makes me feel better), I bought some fabulous chairs. They are the perfect shape, if a little beat up, and the price was right. I was going to immediately go home, give them some TLC, change the chair pads, and voila, they'd be perfect! They're still in the garage. Nineteen months later, they've moved from the shed to the garage. And they only moved there because we tore down the old shed and built a new one. All in the time since I bought the chairs. Damn it.
And that's not the worst part. This weekend, I went to see my darling, dear friend from high school, who in addition to a great farm and beautiful taste has an antique business on the side. When we went by to see the place, there were the most perfect chairs for my dining room. Almost as perfect as the chairs I already bought. And I almost bought them. It's like some kind of sickness.
I think it's time to get moving. I've only got 11 more days.
Better hustle.
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