Give me 45 minutes my ass.

Okay, so I recently read this article that was SUPER inspiring, you know one of those articles that when you finish it you know your life has been changed for the better: you will be more beautiful, small woodland creatures will dress you and clean your home, you will feel the need to spin around in your front yard singing about all the joy in your life – picture a movie montage combining nerdy girl removes glasses and becomes hot meets Disney meets Sound of Music. I was ready. My life was a’changin; I was ready.

…..or not.

Before I go too far, here is the link for this COMPLETELY ACHIEVABLE article about how to become more productive by dedicating 45 minutes of your morning to yourself; but before you go and willy-nilly click on this please know that if you read this you will be all “I can do this” and “It seems easy” and “why not?” and for all I know this may be more sustainable/achievable for all y’all – this is just *my* experience, after all this is completely achievable – you can totally do this, it seems easy—so, why not?

http://www.lifehack.org/articles/productivity/give-45-minutes-the-morning-and-ill-give-you-more-productive-day.html

So, here are the basic steps:

  1. Wake up early – remember fear is still asleep at 5am!
  2. Exercise after breakfast for 15 minutes – exercise creates new neurons! health! yay!
  3. Meditate for 10 minutes – concentrate on breathing and center yourself!
  4. Write a journal for 10 minutes – get your thoughts in order!
  5. Spend 10 minutes with loved ones – embrace love and joy and remember that make you happy and then go to work!
  6. Plan your work day split between “crucial” and “easy wins” – decide what is critical!
  7. Do the crucial stuff right after giving yourself a few “easy wins” – checking things off – YAY!

Got it? Yep – it seems truly do-able and I know that it is correct – I do feel all productive n’ crap when I am up before dawn, etc.

So, here are the basic steps with what I was feeling when I first read this at around 4PM on a weekday:

  • Wake up early – remember fear is still asleep at 5am!
    • You know, I really did feel like I got more accomplished when I woke up early. I think this is a great idea!
  • Exercise after breakfast for 15 minutes – exercise creates new neurons! health! yay!
    • [pictures looking amazing while doing yoga in a beautiful field at sunrise]
  • Meditate for 10 minutes – concentrate on breathing and center yourself!
    • I can meditate right after the yoga; I am going to be so ZEN! This is going to be amazing!
  • Write a journal for 10 minutes – get your thoughts in order!
    • I can *finally* get back to writing in my blog – just 10 minutes a day. I will be so relaxed and zen I bet I will be HILARIOUS!!
  • Spend 10 minutes with loved ones – embrace love and joy and remember that make you happy and then go to work!
    • [pictures romping with the dogs in this beautiful field where I did yoga and meditated]
  • Plan your work day split between “crucial” and “easy wins” – decide what is critical!
    • Got it! Super pumped!
  • Do the crucial stuff right after giving yourself a few “easy wins” – checking things off – YAY!
    • Yep! Got it! I am READY!!

Ah yes, I felt so excited, so inspired, that I failed to ask myself some very important questions about reality – such as, where in the fuck is this magical field where the yoga, meditation, and dog rompery takes place???

And here we have the basic steps again with my feelings in the morning.

  • Wake up early – remember fear is still asleep at 5am!
    • 5am…..no. ain’t fraid nothing anyway *grabs that asleep fear and spoons*
    • 6am…..hell no. stupid. awake bad. sleep good. stupid internet…trying to make me do stupid things. hate. up bad. hate up. sleep good. pillow best friend.
    • 6:30ish…..grab medication organizer, swallow morning meds.
    • 7am…..FUCK! okay, I am awake…..snooze…….No, wait…I will meditate, that’s on the list……..*breathe in….breathe out….snores*
    • 7:30ish…..*blinking* I really have to pee, head that way, trip over dogs, cuss, let dogs out, kitten runs out to become this weird ninja kitten where he walks on his back legs and attacks things that aren’t there – it’s adorable.
    • 7:50ish……inject other meds
    • 7:52ish……find pants!!! oooooh…..shiny internets…
    • 8:14ish…..find. and. put. on. pants!!!!
    • 8:17ish……crap! work! leave house.
  • Exercise after breakfast for 15 minutes – exercise creates new neurons! health! yay!
    • fuck making new neurons, I barely used old ones!
  • Meditate for 10 minutes – concentrate on breathing!
    • totally did this earlier…..sort of.
  • Write a journal for 10 minutes – get your thoughts in order!
    • I’ll write a blog post later! (I say this a lot)
  • Spend 10 minutes with loved ones – embrace love and joy and remember what makes you happy and then go to work!
    • letting them out to pee and watching the kitten ninja TOTALLY COUNTS!
  • Plan your work day split between “crucial” and “easy wins” – decide what is critical!
    • isn’t it all crucial? shit, the easy stuff is already done. *sigh*
  • Do the crucial stuff right after giving you a few “easy wins” – checking things off – YAY!
    • *scowling* stupid internet with your stupid ideas of stupid.

It will not be a shock to most of you to know I was a late bloomer. I didn’t really understand much of anything and I remember having an epiphany in my early 20s that just because you know you are crazy doesn’t mean you can stop the crazy. Apparently a young H believed that if you could make a crazy person believe they were crazy then that would fix them and the crazy would be gone. Holy crap, I was dumb. Anywhoodle, the same applies here – If you follow these morning guidelines you WILL be happier, more efficient, healthier, and more productive. Even the growly 5am version of me knows this – but that bitch just refuses to get out of bed to drag a yoga mat into the soggy, dew-covered yard avoiding dog poop to do yoga while the dogs dance on her head and the kitten attacks her feet after stuffing food into her face and calculating how much insulin to take with it but ensuring enough time has passed from that one medication that can’t be taken with food and then sit very still thinking about breathing before writing about my feelings. The 5am version of me doesn’t have many feelings beyond LOVE for my pillow and HATE for the up; she is wise.

Have a great day y’all

-H.

Judge Me.

So,  we have a kitten.  His name is Gerald and he is adorable (and pointy). He loves the dogs and is, by all accounts, good to be a great cat. Cute little bastard,  isn’t he?

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Having a kitten means you have to put their needs ahead of yours and forgive them when they do those adorable little things like draw blood whilst climbing your bare legs or attack your eyebrows because they hadn’t noticed that there were FURRY CATERPILLERS ON YOUR FACE WHICH MUST BE KILLED! But I realized after cleaning up the third destroyed roll of toilet paper that I can live without skin or eyebrows but I will be damned if I’m going to have to live without toilet paper.  So,  with a little help from my teeny tiny screwdriver I have turned my unused towel rod into Über Toilet Roll Holder.
Now,  I know it isn’t conventionally pretty…. but I love it. Unfortunately, it gave me another idea involving a a label maker and six different brands of toilet paper to determine if there is a superior brand of wiping paper. That project is still in the planning stages.

image

Kisses,
-H.

Today

Today has had a little too much monday in my monday. My pants are too tight due to, well, eating too damn much (damn, hold on…let me check my blood glucose….116. nope, that’s a pretty one. Sometimes when I am overly bloated it is due to too much sugar swimming around….sorry, back to inane ramblings of myself.) Where was I? Oh yes, bitching about tight pants. Not only that but the too tight pants are sending these thong underroos so far north I can feel them in my spleen. A thong? you ask…I can almost hear you all thinking, “da fuq?” while you read that, well the thong was lovingly picked out by the boyfriend….I was attempting to snag the most incredibly comfortable granny panties (Hanes Xtemp) but he was being all sexy-cute and (insert attention deficit disorder now).

O.M.G. – I have a story! Sorry to interrupt my woe is me whine but a while ago I was wearing some seriously old granny panties…at one time they were white with blue and pink hearts on them but had apparently survived a rough decade (hangs head in shame: okay, two decades) and along the way met bleach and possibly a garbage disposal…whatever, they were clean and it was too hot to be sexy or wear pants. So, while laying there sweating quietly next to the boyfriend he mentioned, “those be some ‘thexy panties sweetheart” and then lost. his. shit. laughing. I was almost offended and proceeded to jump on top of him (heat be damned! the non-appreciator must be tickle-murdered!) and that’s when I saw my profile in the mirror absolutely ROCKING that ‘thexy bleached out gaping loincloth look and realized that holy shit were my panties hilariously bad and much laughter was had by all. I also decided maybe it was time to cull some of the more historic examples of my undies. 

Okay, back to my whining! Where was I…ah yes, pants too tight. underwear meeting spleen.. Oh, and I don’t often talk about work on this thing but whoo doggie, this building of doom also known to myself and a select few as “The Albatross” because it can never just be, the fuck, okay. Usually it is something small like floor tiles no longer remaining stuck to the floor or the internet going out (a lot) or the phones not working correctly (all the time) or….well, you get the idea. Sometimes? Sometimes it is something more impressive like the stairs attempting to fall the fuck off of the building. Today was slightly more impressive…today was the installation of a new water feature in the hallway! No wait, it was the pouring of the water from some faulty cooling equipment through the ceiling creating a giant dripping ceiling zip (which I so wanted to pop) but it popped itself and it was like Flashdance all up in the hallway. 

It was like this but with less of the sexy and no chairs were molested.

It was like this but with less of the sexy and no chairs were molested.

Well, kind of like Flashdance….but probably better acted and with less sexy and more office garbage cans being used to collect water. (Aside: I have a friend who did not see Flashdance until she was an adult and she seemed shocked at how horrible of a movie it was; I tried to explain to her that it was freaking magical as a 9-year-old but then I realized–holy shit. That movie is rated R. My parents totally didn’t regulate my viewing habits very well. Anyway, that shit was magical at age 9….that’s all I’m saying.) So, after the Flashdance ceiling zit explosion the mailman dropped off my new shoes! and it is the best day ever! They are orange and fabulous. 

New Shoes!

So, although there is every so much to be done work-wise it is remarkably challenging when there is a contingent of cooling workers spending the day in the hallway. So, while completely distracting it can be a little entertaining; the initial two dudes who showed up are not small – the one guy looks at the other guy and states, “we gonna have to call some of those little guys from the shop to fit up in ‘der.” the one dude decides to give it a go anyway and shimmies and wiggles his way above the ceiling to get to the unit only to find there was an access port to the unit in the ceiling of the first office. Although I feel like an ass about this one I’m still REALLY impressed that he managed to fit. 

So, that’s about it. Enjoy the ramble! 

-H. 

FoodLady Chronicles–Arthopod (why is it always Arthopods?) Edition:

just not the bathroom buddy you are looking for...

just not the bathroom buddy you are looking for…

We are currently enjoying that particular stage of doggie development I have lovingly entitled, “The Asshole Stage”. It usually begins around 6 months old and, provided you don’t kill them, usually gets better at about 15 months old. Puberty generally turns everything into an ass. So our precious 8-month-old-hell-monster (aka Sam-puppy) has been having trouble settling down at night which is rough, but the other night was exceptional in its roughness:
22:10 – lights out, happy sleepy time.
00:07 – FoodLady, FoodDude, Life(dog), Herbert(dog) are all happily still asleep. SamSam (hell-puppy) says, “Bark! Bark! WakeUpEveryone! Bark! I’mBored! Bark!  IFoundTheCatAgain! Bark! DidYouKnowWeHaveACat? Bark! (he rediscovers the existence of the cat daily) iFartedAndWeShouldAllEnjoyMyAroma
Bark! WakeUpHumans!!!”
The bipeds wake up, gag at the smell, settle everyone back down, attempt further sleep.
01:34 – SamSam “DangerBark! DangerBark!” And then Herbert joins in, “DangerBark! WeHaveASituationHereFoodLadyGetUpBark!” and with that I am UP. I do a quick look through the house and nothing is on fire, no person has invaded, and as I blink blearily and walk around…..there is just nothing.  The brindles (Herbert & Sam) are dancing around me but not showing me anything so I think, “oh well,–I’ll just use the restroom and attempt this sleep thing again”.  Given the frequency of critters invading my bathroom (spiders, blue crabs, bugs of all kinds, etc.) I have learned not to pee in the dark. I flip on the light and when I try to walk in the two brindled dogs bump and push and squeeze me against the wall and I’m all grumpy and thinking many bad words about annoying brindle-colored dogs and after grumpily fighting my way to the toilet I sit to pee. Sam-puppy flees and Herbert flips around into a guard position and I see it. Now, centipedes are a fact of life in the tropics and even though they are creepy as hell, they don’t normally freak me out but this one was FREAKY. It was only about 6 inches long but it was about 1 1/2 inches wide and it was PISSED. It was rearing (which is just extra creepy, btw) and headed for Herbert (and me) I made Herbert get in the shower (he wasn’t happy with this plan but did it) and put the bathroom trash can on top of it and pressed down with both hands–it wouldn’t squish. *shudder* Okay then. I wake up FoodDude and he gets the machete and after chopping it to bits we check the pups. Herbert seemed okay but Sam was limping and couldn’t put weight on one paw. Well, crap. So, yeah….the brindles kept me from getting stung and I was grumpy about it at the time and QUE THE GUILT. Good Brave Sam-puppy! Good Brave Herbert! I feel it is important to share that Sam is not a stoic dog. He proceeded to let us know in a melodramatic display of floppery that he was a HERO! and now that he was dying! he would need to be snuggled and carried and he needs ALL of the biscuits so he can go on. So, due to the guilt, we piled the poor boy into the bed and I spent the rest of the night awake making sure he was okay and wishing I had an organic vapor respirator because the farting…..well, it was bad. It was incredibly bad. In the morning it was easy to see poor Herbert had also gotten stung because he was stiff and sore–poor stoic Herbert (more guilt). But what about poor short-legged Sam-puppy, you say?  Yeah, at sunrise he was joyously perky and full of all of the happy vigor! (It is a bright new day! I found the cat! Did you know we have a cat?! I like destroying things!) He leapt around the front yard happily destroying something foam-based and barking at anyone who dared to use the road in front of his yard. Meanwhile,  the FoodPeople prepared to zombie through the day. I’m not sure how, but Sam-puppy wins. ♡

Things be alright.

So, back in the day I was married to a, for lack of a better term, deadbeat. So I was not without trepidation that I entered into my current relationship. This man moved thousands of miles to live with me and thankfully, I can say this has been the happiest time of my life.
What I have learned over the last couple of months has felt fairly epic but it really just boils down to no-one sees their own issues until you see them through someone else’s eyes. As an example, while cleaning out various rooms of my house I learned I have a complete aversion to closing doors. To my knowledge I have never been locked in anywhere but holy shit….I take doors off of pretty much anything I can and if I can’t take them off I block them open. I hadn’t shut the front door of my house in YEARS until recently. Yep, not a fan of doors. But lately (shut up) I have learned if you close the doors the dogs don’t get outside willy nilly and since outside is where the majority of trouble is found, well, now I get why these damn door things became so darn popular in the first place (shut. up.).
So, before the man got here I researched online for important (read: lame) articles about “are we ready to live together” and other such advice. What really threw me for a loop was the repeated advice that “if you are moving in together to save money–don’t”. I just could not understand this advice–who moves in together to “save money”? Two people living together costs MORE, not less. It was almost 72 hours (again with the shutting and the upping–I’m special) before I realized how incredibly fucked up my thought process truly was; in my mind two people did not equal two incomes, just me taking care of two people. So, with this realization I told the man that he needed to find a job asap and how would the household cost be split, etc. The man basically responded with, “duh. We split bills.” Then he moved in and found a job and all is so close to being amazing it boggles the mind (well, my mind). As he is working as an independent contractor (I hate working like that) and billing the ‘client’ he has yet to be paid and here we are over 35 days past his first invoice and if I eat any more ramen noodle, well, I would cry–except the amount of msg I am ingesting is desiccating my tear ducts. Regardless of the money situation, which should be fine as soon as ‘the client’ pays him, things are going very well in my life. Except I just found out I HAVE ANOTHER FLAT TIRE. Damn. Well, one rather awesome thing about having someone around who, while loving and respecting that I have the ability to change a tire myself, does not believe I should have to change the tire. That’s right bitches, I am now a delicate princess!
*sigh* this growing up stuff is not for the weak! Speaking of growing up — did anyone else have parents that told them they would “grow out of their acne around age 18″? Cause my parents were full of crap; thirty-seven years old with acne AND wrinkles.
~sings~ I feel pretty…oh so pretty….I feel pretty, and witty, and bright…….

Embrace the Rage

I have a mother-fucking eye twitch and I’m trapped in one of the world’s most annoying damn classe and it may be time to RANT.
Let’s say you are taking a class about how to drink water.  It happens to be something you do everyday, but because it is required you go to the class with the expectation of learning something useful.  The first day of class you learn where water can usually be found,  maybe spend some time talking about juice (?!) and then they hint that eventually you might see someone drinking water. Disappointing, but you go home with hope for tomorrow.
The next day you get to spend some time watching your instructor lay on the floor while another instructor pours the water into her mouth, spilling over 80%….da fuck? I could explain how to drink water more efficiently than that!  Then we get a couple guest speakers who explain that at their companies everyone drinks water everyday successfully….. That’s great,  but I want to learn HOW to drink the water!
The third day,  we end up talking about juice again,  but this time we have to write down how we would make wine out of juice….and suddenly I can’t stop my fucking eye from twitching. 
This is insane.