I am not a fan of Day Light Savings.
I mean, I like having the day light last longer in the evening and all that, but oh, how my body HATES waking up an hour earlier. In fact, I sort of can't. This morning John tried to wake me up for 35 minutes. I thought I was awake until he came back and leaned over me and said, "Hey, you, are you getting up or what?"
"Obviously," I told him slightly grumpily, "I am NOT."
But I did (late) and I got to church (late) and primary was awesome (and late), but I didn't feel to bad because EVERYONE was late.
That's the very best part of Daylight Savings. For about three days, I have the worlds best excuse for being late . . . Day Light Savings, you know, it's a killer. Yeah, I just couldn't get my act together . . . I'm so tired. You too? Yeah, it's the pits.
And then, after the said three days, well, I'm just late for no good reason other than I can't seem to get myself to any place on time.
John may or may not have been a wee bit frustrated with me today with my consistent 5 minute late rule.
He is a 5 minute early guy. And as you can imagine, this creates . . . problems sometimes.
He just doesn't understand that I never want to be the first one to arrive anywhere. Plus, in those ten minutes (his 5 early plus my 5 late=10 long minutes) I can totally do a load of laundry, mop the floor, prepare dinner, and read a chapter in my exciting book before I need to be at that (fill in the blank) . . .
Which makes me five minutes late every time. (But super duper productive)
I know you're like the best multi-tasker in the universe, John said to me during our discussion today (he can also read my mind), but you're ALWAYS late, and that's just plane old rude.
Gulp.
He's right.
It's super rude to be late.
But I promise, I'm not meaning to be late.
I just HATE being on-time.
It's a problem because I don't know if I can change. I hate entering a room/party/meeting and being the first one there. It gives me the creeps. I don't know why, it just does. I love to enter a room with the party in full swing, the meeting just starting, or the activity in progress. I like the jump while the fun is happening . . .
Is that so wrong?
Well, according to old John, it is. Kill joy.
But here's the deal, he's sort of right.
When I'm in charge of meetings (and periodically I am), I'm more than 5 minutes early and those blessed and beautiful souls who come on time (or bless their hearts . . . early) and usually my Salvation. They always come right over and say, What can I do? Put me to work. Or they just go and sit down and be their good contentious selves. I find such great comfort in their solid, dependableness. You know that these are the people who if you call and ask them to complete a task, they totally will without batting an eye.
Because they know the value of time and they value theirs and the value mine.
So what does that make me?
Gulp twice.
Super duper lame. . . times fifty. A valuer of myself above everyone and everything?
Tiny mouse voice . . . squeaking out, "yes."
This afternoon while John was trying to tell me to be a wee bit better . . . and I was thinking, well, I'll show you better, mister! . . . when I realized (slowly as usual) that maybe he was right.
All day I've been thinking about him and what he said and about how maybe I need to change and wondering if I can . . . I mean, I'm an OLD dog here and they say you just can't teach them new tricks.
Yep, that's me, giving myself excuses again (I'm super good at it . . . in fact, it's like my hidden talent, that's not so hidden) and avoiding the fact that I need to at least give myself a chance to change, right? I've run a marathon or two, I can surely figure out how to be . . . cringe . . . on time(ish)?
And why not now, with this Day Light Savings thing going on? Why not start today and make a new intention (in the middle of the month no less) to at least be on time? Early might break me, but on time . . . I must be able to do that, right?
Big huge swallow . . . staring down my clock . . . yelling in my head, You will NOT defeat me! . . . YES! Yes, I think I can do this . . .
So, here goes nothing.
Two weeks of being on time, starting . . . NOW! Let the "Not Late" experiment begin.
(Is it normal for me to be super duper scared? Fearful? Like it's impossible? Have sweaty palms and feel sort of faint? I hope so . . . because I'm feeling all that and more).
Wish me luck?
I need it.
PS My intentions update:
My Drinking Water is really good, but I've totally come to realize that 8 eight ounce cups is way to little for me. I need more like 12 when I'm running and doing yoga. So upping that this week.
Reading something to help my brain . . .yeah, not so great, so I'm listening to Ted Talks (or I have once but I'm going to do it again soon), and I'm counting reading my Cooking Light. It's different and it honestly gets my brain (and belly) going.
Praying: Ok this one has been awesome. I like the stillness and the quiet and the openness. I just sort of keep falling asleep. So I'm working that kink out. But really, it's a super calm peaceful rest--maybe that's what God is trying to communicate to me . . . sleep more, my child. And I'm totally listening and being His obedient child. Yeah, I like the sound of that.
I mean, I like having the day light last longer in the evening and all that, but oh, how my body HATES waking up an hour earlier. In fact, I sort of can't. This morning John tried to wake me up for 35 minutes. I thought I was awake until he came back and leaned over me and said, "Hey, you, are you getting up or what?"
"Obviously," I told him slightly grumpily, "I am NOT."
But I did (late) and I got to church (late) and primary was awesome (and late), but I didn't feel to bad because EVERYONE was late.
That's the very best part of Daylight Savings. For about three days, I have the worlds best excuse for being late . . . Day Light Savings, you know, it's a killer. Yeah, I just couldn't get my act together . . . I'm so tired. You too? Yeah, it's the pits.
And then, after the said three days, well, I'm just late for no good reason other than I can't seem to get myself to any place on time.
John may or may not have been a wee bit frustrated with me today with my consistent 5 minute late rule.
He is a 5 minute early guy. And as you can imagine, this creates . . . problems sometimes.
He just doesn't understand that I never want to be the first one to arrive anywhere. Plus, in those ten minutes (his 5 early plus my 5 late=10 long minutes) I can totally do a load of laundry, mop the floor, prepare dinner, and read a chapter in my exciting book before I need to be at that (fill in the blank) . . .
Which makes me five minutes late every time. (But super duper productive)
I know you're like the best multi-tasker in the universe, John said to me during our discussion today (he can also read my mind), but you're ALWAYS late, and that's just plane old rude.
Gulp.
He's right.
It's super rude to be late.
But I promise, I'm not meaning to be late.
I just HATE being on-time.
It's a problem because I don't know if I can change. I hate entering a room/party/meeting and being the first one there. It gives me the creeps. I don't know why, it just does. I love to enter a room with the party in full swing, the meeting just starting, or the activity in progress. I like the jump while the fun is happening . . .
Is that so wrong?
Well, according to old John, it is. Kill joy.
But here's the deal, he's sort of right.
When I'm in charge of meetings (and periodically I am), I'm more than 5 minutes early and those blessed and beautiful souls who come on time (or bless their hearts . . . early) and usually my Salvation. They always come right over and say, What can I do? Put me to work. Or they just go and sit down and be their good contentious selves. I find such great comfort in their solid, dependableness. You know that these are the people who if you call and ask them to complete a task, they totally will without batting an eye.
Because they know the value of time and they value theirs and the value mine.
So what does that make me?
Gulp twice.
Super duper lame. . . times fifty. A valuer of myself above everyone and everything?
Tiny mouse voice . . . squeaking out, "yes."
This afternoon while John was trying to tell me to be a wee bit better . . . and I was thinking, well, I'll show you better, mister! . . . when I realized (slowly as usual) that maybe he was right.
All day I've been thinking about him and what he said and about how maybe I need to change and wondering if I can . . . I mean, I'm an OLD dog here and they say you just can't teach them new tricks.
Yep, that's me, giving myself excuses again (I'm super good at it . . . in fact, it's like my hidden talent, that's not so hidden) and avoiding the fact that I need to at least give myself a chance to change, right? I've run a marathon or two, I can surely figure out how to be . . . cringe . . . on time(ish)?
And why not now, with this Day Light Savings thing going on? Why not start today and make a new intention (in the middle of the month no less) to at least be on time? Early might break me, but on time . . . I must be able to do that, right?
Big huge swallow . . . staring down my clock . . . yelling in my head, You will NOT defeat me! . . . YES! Yes, I think I can do this . . .
So, here goes nothing.
Two weeks of being on time, starting . . . NOW! Let the "Not Late" experiment begin.
(Is it normal for me to be super duper scared? Fearful? Like it's impossible? Have sweaty palms and feel sort of faint? I hope so . . . because I'm feeling all that and more).
Wish me luck?
I need it.
PS My intentions update:
My Drinking Water is really good, but I've totally come to realize that 8 eight ounce cups is way to little for me. I need more like 12 when I'm running and doing yoga. So upping that this week.
Reading something to help my brain . . .yeah, not so great, so I'm listening to Ted Talks (or I have once but I'm going to do it again soon), and I'm counting reading my Cooking Light. It's different and it honestly gets my brain (and belly) going.
Praying: Ok this one has been awesome. I like the stillness and the quiet and the openness. I just sort of keep falling asleep. So I'm working that kink out. But really, it's a super calm peaceful rest--maybe that's what God is trying to communicate to me . . . sleep more, my child. And I'm totally listening and being His obedient child. Yeah, I like the sound of that.
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