Here’s the thing: I got to get my life in order.
I mean, it’s not “I’m gonna die tomorrow if I don’t fix this shit” bad. Nor is it “things are going well, I just need a tune up” good. Kinda in the middle. I could be doing better, but I could be doing much worse.
So, you know, life.
But there’s some things that I just got to fix. Little irritants which sap a bit of enjoyment out of life. Maybe its due to physical limitations, but most of the time, its all mental.
Here’s a prime example:
There are countless things in my life that I want to do. I want to read more, write more, watch more movies, catch up on same favorite television shows, find new television shows, get back into the garage and my woodworking, build a darkroom in my basement, spend more quality time with my wife, do photography with my wife, meet more people, go out more, enjoy life more, travel, and millions of other things. The adjustments are endless, but nonetheless present. All of them applying their little pressures and guilt that I’m not doing it.
And, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not Superman. Can’t do more than one thing at a time. I mean, I’ve tried. I can’t write (or do anything really) in front of the television. It just sucks me in. And things like woodworking or writing require your full attention. You deal with a lot of sharp, hungry things in woodworking. Stop paying attention for a second and you could loose a finger or more.
I don’t want that.
Of course, K is feeling the same way. So she’s come up with a solution. Scheduling my time down to the last minute so I can get everything done that I want to in the day, all while working a forty hour a week job.
Yeah. About that.
Because, if you also hadn’t noticed, I’m kinda a whirlwind of chaos. At home, I try to keep things neat and tidy and it lasts for a good, whole ten seconds before everything’s blown to the ends of the Earth. This is just an extension of my mind, which is way worse. Structure is good for me, but only up to a point. After that, my mind begins to chafe and my skin starts to itch.
Trust me, I will find a way to fuck up your structure into a meaningless pile of good intentions.
And that would be fine, if I had some self-discipline. Sadly, that is lacking as well. I’ve never been a great one to wait. I want immediate gratification. There are things that I know I need to do, but more often than not, I’ll shove it aside to do something more fun. Let’s not get started on how I take criticism, justified or not.
Really, it must be Hell to be married to me.
I’m a thirty-something with the willpower of a three year old and the “get off my lawn” mentality of an eighty year old. My mind is always going to be all over the place, so I only seldom rein it in. The worst part about it is that I seem to be the only one whose able to call “Whoa Nelly” on those horses and enforce some semblance of order. K has tried, and, God bless her, she still keeps trying.
Of course, there are other impediments. Most of them being the simple idea of accepting a concept. Which is easier said than done.
You see, there are a few things in my life that I’ve always just accepted. Come to find out, I need to throw away those long held beliefs. There’s nothing wrong with that. But it does require me to adjust my mental state. Things regarding work, my writing, and my private life. Not the easiest thing with someone who gets distracted by shiny objects.
So, I’m working on it. Slowly. There are two core concepts that I have to work with. And, after all this, I’m sorry to say that they shall remain private. I just need to keep them that way, at least for now.
But I do need to inforce some structure on my life. Gonna start with my writing. Write more often. Write with more quality. And fret less over it. These things are the first draft. It’ll get better with each consecutive draft.
And hopefully, my mind will adjust with practice. It’s hard to ride a whirlwind, but if Pecos Bill can do it, so can I.