So it turns out that blogging, like many other important daily habits, is best done in the morning, because if you (*I*) wait until night time, you (*I*) probably don’t have the energy and focus to really do it right or well. And you (*I*) end up just blurting something out so that you (*I*) can go to bed feeling like you (*I*) blogged today.
On a somewhat-related note, I have now exercised in a focused and deliberate way for 15 straight days, and hot damn do I ever feel good about that. I’m using the Jerry Seinfeld technique, where I put a big mark on the calendar for every day that I DO the thing I am supposed to be doing (in this case, exercising) and the motivation is supposed to come from fear of breaking the streak. It works like a son of a gun. I don’t have any lofty weightloss goals or anything, but I know that I am spectacularly BAD at making exercise a priority, and that probably needs to change.
Other marbles rolling around in my head:
- I’m currently house and dogsitting for a friend, a chore that I pretty much love doing for anyone, anywhere (seriously – if you are taking a trip and would like Skip and I to stay in your place, let me know. We are the dream team of house-carers.). Living in someone else’s space always makes me thing about what I would do if I lived in the space. If I lived in this space, I would have less air-conditioning and more ceiling fans. I would also have more places where one can lounge and still have a secure surface on which to place a beverage. There is a distinct lack of coffee tables around here.
- I have been thinking a lot lately about how much harder it is to accept generosity than it is to offer it, and why that is. There is a specific context for this in my own life right now, but I think this is a broader phenomenon, right?
- Every time I think about the upcoming school year, I have a brief moment where I forget that my students from last year will not be back with me, and then I remember, and I get this little biting ache for a few minutes. I’ve never had this before, this extreme reluctance to let them go, this thrumming worry about how they will do in first grade. I’m not sure what it’s about, or what to do with it.
- Hanging out with someone else’s dog makes me realize how much I love my own pup. This dog is rather barky – every time I open the back door, she springs out of it, yapping full volume to let the neighbours know she’s there. My own sweet, quiet, Skip gives me a look of utter confusion every time this happens, then slowly wanders out to find a comfy place in the sun.He really is such a good boy, this funny little dog of mine.
Ok, there. I blogged. It is not a great post, maybe not even a good one. But it is a post. And that is something.
And now: to bed.
*Why, by Annie Lennox