So, after the week I’ve had (yes, I realize it’s only Tuesday), I’ve decided that I need to set a new year’s resolution. This is something I typically do not do, being averse to setting myself up for self-loathing and whatnot (I hate lack of follow-through).
Why, you ask, am I willing to break with personal convention and also risk disappointing myself? I’m making an exception this year because it definitely seems like the universe is trying to tell me something. Two things happened in the last two days that simply scream “YOU NEED TO MAKE SOME CHANGES!!”
Thing #1: On Monday (yesterday), I had to time things perfectly in order for everything to fit into my late afternoon/evening. This meant having a very early supper, which was fine. I’d prepped some quinoa and veggies in advance and, when I got home from shopping, just had enough time to make a salad and grill some pork lion chops (yes, we BBQ all year long). So the quinoa was bubbling away and I was running back and forth between the salad bowl and the BBQ, and feeling pretty darned smug about my ability to be organized and on top of things… girl’s got skillz, peepul.
But then things all started piling up… time running short, quinoa needs to come off the burner soon, chops are ready for spicing, and dealing with all that incessant chopping (salads are high maintenance)…I took the seasonings outside, lifted the lid and started sprinkling cayenne pepper onto the chops. At just that moment, a little tiny wind gust zipped in from the north, scooped up allllllll the little bits of cayenne powder and drove them straight into my eyes. Which burns. Like all the fires of Hades. Though I could still see a little bit out of my right eye, I basically had to feel my way in through the back door and to the bathroom so I could get some Visine into my peepers. Eventually, the burning and watering stopped. Unbelievably, supper was not ruined and I still made it to my meeting on time.
Thing #2: Today, I had intended to be highly productive with work. Then I found out my hubby and I needed to go to Calgary post haste to get passport issues sorted before our February Mazatlan trip. I was a bit rushed with things, and, in the midst of trying to get ready, the hospital called with a bunch of instructions for my Dad’s pre-operative needs. After the call I of course needed to relay all the information to my dad. This put me about 15 minutes behind. I am always, constantly, running my time to the pointed second, and so whenever unexpected things come up that interfere with that precise timing, I get stressed, and start attempting to multi-task (which, as everyone knows, has been scientifically proven – possibly by me – to be impossible). Anyway, because of this now serious time crunch, I decided to double up, and quickly rang my sister to update her while applying makeup. Or… not.
As I was talking to her, I grabbed my face primer and rubbed it all over my face. Oddly, my skin immediately started to feel super tight. Huh, I thought, this stuff doesn’t normally feel like that. I looked in the makeup mirror and discovered that my face was covered in a thick, white paste. Yup. Turns out I had not applied primer. I had applied lash grip. Which, for the unitiated, is GLUE.
I COVERED MY FACE IN GLUE, Y’ALL.
Twenty minutes later, I’d managed to get the glue washed off my face and my husband had picked all the glue bits out of my hair line. Mostly.
I had some time, on the road trip to Calgary, to reflect on these two incidents. Never mind the obvious comedic value… we can celebrate that another day. And let’s choose to ignore the question that’s got to be pre-eminent in the minds of every reader: “WHO DOES THIS? WHO ELSE ON THE PLANET DOES THIS STUFF HAPPEN TO?” I mean, I think we all know the answer to that… no one.
And, apologies: as much as I know you want them, there are no photos.
Soooooo anyway, back to the reflection part. It seems obvious to me that whenever these kinds of things happen to me (which, by the way, is far too frequently), it is when I am late, behind, rushed, and trying to do too many things. And what came to me, as we drove, is that that last part, the too many things, is really where the rubber meets the road. Too many things. I think I am always, always doing too many things, trying to fit too many things into my day, trying to accomplish too many things, to keep all the plates spinning, to never drop the ball, to be a productivity super hero (NOTE: we should acknowledge that the propensity to do too many things is awkwardly coupled with extreme klutziness, but let’s focus on what we can change).
My resolution is to stop with the too many things. Understand that this is not something I can change overnight… I have made commitments (too many) and can’t not follow through (see paragraph one). And I don’t know HOW to not do too many things. This is a lifetime habit to be broken.
So, high five me for adding two more ridiculous and hilariously crazy stories to my repertoire. And high five me again for recognizing the root of the problem. And congratulate me for stepping up to make a change.
And please, please, in all seriousness, help me. Hold me accountable.
Happy New Year!