Tag Archives: routine

Control Is (just a) Key

Posted on September 2, 2012 | 28 comments

Sometimes the universe reminds you (or me) that control is nothing more than a key on a laptop that somehow gets a virus and will require $150 to fix only to be returned to you completely “renewed,” as in, all of your settings, downloads, documents, drafts of blog posts and some pictures are no longer part of the deal.

The mixture of this event and several others might leave you (or me) lying on the floor in the fetal position next to the cat, cursing Comcast while sobbing and apologizing for being a horrible cat mom.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

But then once you get those sobs out, you (or I) might realize that people in third world countries would kick your ass if they knew you were upset over losing half-written blog posts, having your credit card hacked (a different story) or cleaning up cat puke.

It could always be worse, but sometimes that’s hard to remember. Things add up and the straw that broke the camel’s back can often break you down. The realization that things are out of your control and less than ideal is annoying and frustrating.

It’s also pointless to fight.

A lot of my stress (and maybe yours) isn’t because I honestly feel like physical chaos will ensue when things go wrong, but rather that a situation won’t be (my version) of ideal and mental chaos will ensue.

So I plan things like having a post ready, make sure I can workout or that a meal won’t be rushed, eaten later than preferred or (gasp!) a disappointment. I like knowing that I can do “A” at time “B” and the result will be a predictable “C.”

Hello? Laptops getting sick, credit cards getting hacked and Snooki getting a spin-off show fit nowhere in that plan!

Anyway, after finding myself lying on the floor in the fetal position next to the cat, cursing Comcast while sobbing and apologizing for being a horrible cat mom—hypothetically speaking, of course—I had a thought. Well, two of them actually.

1) Wow, there’s a lot of catnip in this carpet.

2) How’s “predictable C” working out for me?

Of course at this point it wasn’t only about the laptop—although I was (and am) still kind of freaking out about that. No, it was the general realization—again—that sometimes you (or I) have to let go and just go with the flow.

Learning to accept the world as it is rather than being annoyed with it, stressed by it, mad at it or trying to change it into what we want it to be is really all we can do.

And I have to admit that my computer is running much faster. While this stinks, I can turn that around and say now I have an uncluttered canvas that can be filled with whatever might suit me right now. And we can continue the cheesy metaphor and say doing a different “A” at time “B” can result in a new and improved “C.”

Exclamation point!

Of course at this point it’s still not only about the laptop and I’m still lying on the (now freshly vacuumed) floor. However, it’s not because I’m sobbing and losing my shit, but simply because I stood up and a piece of broccoli fell out of my shirt.

I can’t find it.

I’ve learned to accept this will happen. Not being annoyed with it, stressed by it, mad at it or trying to change it into what I want it to be is really all I can do until someone sends me a bib that can double as a superhero cape.

You pick your battles, people.

Like the blog? Buy the book.

28 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged acceptance, computers, money, OCD, perspective, routine

Shiny Things Distract Me

Posted on February 27, 2011 | 23 comments

Alternate title: Sharing my OCD—Obscure Creative Directives

Get inspired to write something brilliant at a completely inopportune time. Forget about it for a bit.

Start doing something else, remember your idea and head into the living room to turn on your computer.

While waiting for it to boot up, go into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

The water takes a minute to heat up. Notice that the shelf next to the sink is dusty, grab a rag and quickly wipe it down.

This leads to cleaning the whole counter, as the power of Lysol 4-in-1 knows no bounds.

Remember the water is boiled and make your cup of tea.

Head back into the living room (still inspired.)

Focus.

Decide to check your e-mail for just a second before really settling in for the composition of brilliance.

Twenty minutes and a witty Facebook status update later, return to your writing.

Write without self-editing. Just write.

Realize you have the word “spatulate” stuck in your head and decide that yes, it can be used in a sentence.

The word “spatulate” makes you think of cake, which reminds you of the Sara Lee commercial, the jingle of which is now stuck in your head.

Remember that until you saw it in print, you thought is was “Nobody does it like Sara Lee” because “Nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee” is a double negative and doesn’t make as much sense.

Focus; not on the grammatical shortcomings of the Sara Lee Corporation.

Start writing and soon realize you forgot about your tea, so go into the kitchen and throw it in the microwave.

Fill the 30 seconds by getting your lunch containers ready for the next day, and while you’re at it, fill the lunch containers so you’re good-to-go.

Notice the shelf in the fridge could stand to be wiped down. Call in Lysol 4-in-1 again; it’s power knows no bounds.

Remember about the tea, retrieve said tea and head back to the computer.

Focus. Write a bit.

Bite your tongue—literally.

Tea makes you pee, so go relieve the problem—among other things.

Wash your hands and decide to replace the Glade Plug-In in the outlet.

While in the closet, take note of the Swiffer and decide it’s time to go for a ride.

Turn the radio on—loud—not because it’s a mandatory step, but because it makes you happy.

Swiffering also makes you happy, so clean, sing and dance around your kitchen with your freak flag flying high.

The floor needs to dry, so head back into the living room.

Remember you were writing.

Turn the radio down. Find yourself humming.

Bite your tongue again in the exact same spot. Curse—loudly—not because it’s a mandatory step, but because it makes you feel better.

Turn the radio off.

Focus.

Write without self-editing. Just write.

Decide you don’t want to overdo it, so hit “save” and go put the kitchen rugs back on the (clean) floor.

While you’re throwing things, throw your yoga mat on the living room carpet as a reminder that you are going to do it later. If the mat is on the floor, you will do it later.

Light the “Fresh Baked Cookies”-scented candle in your living room, not to set a romantic mood for yourself, but to make it smell like delicious baked cookies you didn’t bake (as nobody does it like Sara Lee has given you a temporary inferiority complex.)

Return to your computer and read what you wrote without judgment, and then read what you wrote with the addition of judgment.

Decide it’s not brilliant, but it’s you.

Marvel at how much that candle really smells like Fresh Baked Cookies and resist the urge to lick it.

Focus.

Attempt to add an image into your post, as you’ve heard that people like to see images in posts.

Shrug and decide you don’t care what people like to see in posts. You can’t please them all.

Reread your words one more time.

Brush off self-doubt and embrace what you are.

Hit “publish.”

Start doing something else until you get inspired to write something brilliant at a completely inopportune time—maybe yoga.

Repeat.

23 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged cleaning, humor, OCD, routine, writing

What I learned from zombies

Posted on March 24, 2010 | 16 comments

I know I’m late to the game, but I finally saw Zombieland this weekend (and just for the record, thoroughly enjoyed it). At any rate, if you haven’t seen it, you are dropped right into Zombieland as Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg) begins listing his rules to survive living among the zombies (trust me, it’s not as cheesy as it sounds.)

One of his opening lines is, “I survived because I followed the rules, my rules.”

Hmmm…call me crazy, but this really struck a chord with me (and not because the undead were lurking around my neighborhood.) For me, I pretty much developed these maladaptive behaviors years ago as a way to survive, a way to cope with my situation and the world around me.

Things chaotic? I defer to overexercising, restricting or obsessing about food/numbers/etc. so I can’t focus on anything else. Making myself comfortably numb was the only way I felt (and still feel) like I can handle both the outside world and the inside turmoil. I feel like in order to just make it through, to survive, I can’t have it both ways—it’s either/or.

I survive because I follow the rules, my rules.

I have ridiculous rules about everything—if I worked out for 30 minutes last night, it can’t be 29 minutes today; I put limits on pieces of gum and tea that have nothing to do with calories; my meal rules are ridiculous and I won’t even touch on them (work in progress, most certainly.)

But how much are these rules really helping? Unless you’re new here, you’re probably thinking, “How’s that working out for ya, Abby?” and understandably rolling your eyes. My rules give me a false sense of safety, but they don’t keep me healthy in both body and mind.

So, I have decided to amuse myself by adapting a few of the rules of survival from Zombieland to my own situation, adding my own “healthy” twist to things. Once again, I feel like I have to do everything “opposite” of what we are traditionally told to do (“eat less, exercise more,” for example), but rules are made to be broken—or at least twisted to fit my purpose.

RULES FOR SURVIVAL

(Disclaimer: This is not a complete list of Zombieland Rules for Survival. If you are in need of those guidelines, I suggest you log off and report your suspicions to the authorities.)

Cardio—This one comes up a lot in Zombieland, and it makes sense. You want to be in good physical condition to outrun the undead. However, if you are trying to gain healthy weight, cardio makes no sense—especially when it becomes obsessive. You want to be in good physical condition and not look like the undead, so cardio is basically out of the picture…unless being chased by zombies, of course.

Beware of Bathrooms—In the movie, the bathroom is the perfect place to corner yourself and negate any hope of escape. Similarly, the bathroom for someone in recovery can be just as unpleasant for a variety of reasons. (1) There is the shower, where one is forced to get naked in front of (2) the mirrors. There might be a (3) scale, possibly a (4) hair-clogged sink or drain and (5) the inevitable medicine cabinet that may contain laxatives, stimulants, sleeping pills or any other artificial form of “alternation” (or maybe just floss…floss is harmless). At the very least, there is (6) the toilet—a vehicle for evacuation, or countless hours spent wishing for such a, ahem…movement.

However, one must regard the bathroom as a place of comfort and not of temptation to nit-pick or obsesses over physical…stuff. We’ll move on.

No Attachments—In the movie, it is advised not to get too attached to other people or things, as they are likely to slow you down. Similarly, with recovery from anything, you cannot be so attached to your routine and addictions that they slow you down and impede your recovery. In order for things to improve, you have to be willing to let go of the habits that grounded you where you are.

The Buddy System—But that doesn’t mean you can’t be attached to people. In the movie, you want someone watching your back, always on alert for the next attack. Similarly, those in recovery need to have someone they can talk and be accountable to. Going at it solo, listening only to what’s going on in your own head, is no smarter than trying to take on a mob of the undead alone.

When in doubt, know your way out—With zombies, nothing is worse than a poorly planned escape. Similarly, when you find yourself slipping back into unhealthy behaviors or questioning your motivations, know what you can do to find a way out. Nothing is worse than a poorly planned escape.

Be Ruthless—Just as the weak and compassionate will not survive in the world of the undead, one cannot expect to make progress in recovery by giving in and giving up when things get tough. Things will be hard, things will be uncomfortable, things will suck. Be ruthless; show no mercy.

Enjoy the little things—Self explanatory in both Zombieland and Abbyland. Life is short—take time to appreciate the small things that make your heart happy. In actuality, they are in fact the big things.