I had a car once that randomly switched gears. It was an automatic transmission so there wasn't much I could do about it. Sometimes it was in the right gear, other times the engine raced at slow speeds or cut out when I was driving at highway speeds. Over 55mph it shook like a magic fingers massaging bed.
This is what I felt like today. Like my own internal engine was out of my control. All of my highfalootin' plans to take things easy and do manageable chunks of work went out the window.
I had been humming along just fine. And then today I unexpectedly ratcheted up to ridiculous and set after the Basement Garbage Monster alone. I posted earlier today and then scrapped the post. Here is part of it:
I managed to fill one box of stuff from the basement yesterday and then walk away. Not hours and hours. Not getting everything done. Just setting a manageable, tiny, insignificant goal and sticking to it. Take THAT all-or-nothing thinking. If I can make myself do this regularly things will be manageable in no time.
Spouse has a very different view on the cleanliness project. It would be his preference to clean and organize our living space BEFORE venturing into the land of the Basement Garbage Monster.
Here is the thing: our living space may never be clean and organized. At least not to my satisfaction. And so if I wait for some mythical Martha Stewart future to overtake my living space, the Basement Garbage Monster will just sit their on its treasure heap growing fatter and fatter. Smug bastard.
Today I will fill one* box from the eldest son's future room in the basement and clear space to move his treadmill in so he can use it. And he will help with this. And then I will just do normal and relaxy things.
After I had passed the point of reasonable in the decluttering project (* actually filled ten boxes, created four new bags of garbage and three new bags of donation items), my oldest child told me I should take a break.
"But I'm having fun!"
"Okay..." he said, but he was going to take a break and he thought I should too.
There was a tone of disappointment in his voice. Like he was allowing me to make the wrong decision while hoping that I would make the right one.
Decluttered with a vengeance. Created more quantities of garbage bags to live in the basement until we are able to cart them off... which will not be in the 60 below windchills we have on the way.
Then I crashed. Unfortunately I was the only one who crashed. The children were all plenty energetic. I hid in my room with the covers over my head and wished I could fall asleep.
On the positive side, I am now vertical. So I didn't push things as much as I have in the past. Also, I possess greater stores of energy at this point in time. Still...
Tangent: I promised a friend that I would research the origin of the words in the derogatory epithet "Commie Pinko Fag." The etymology (not very carefully fact-checked) follows:
commie: short for comunist. First known use was in 1940
pinko: a communist sympathizer (not quite "red"). First used in 1925
fag: short for faggot. Used to describe a gay man. Prior to that it referred to a bundle of sticks, but was also used as a derogatory term for an old woman-- short for "faggot gatherer." First used in its homosexual derogatory term in 1914
"commie pinko fag" was a catcall used to describe peacenick long-haired liberal hippie types in the 60s. So it is a phrase forty-some years in the making.
Grateful Crap: central heat. It will be 25 below Farenheit on Monday (that's -32 for those on the sensible system of measurement). The governor has closed all K-12 schools. Sheesh.
took meds in the morning
set limits (and will stick to them sometimes)
spoke with a friend (on the phone, but it still counts)
I don't know what else
Quaker, teacher, parent,