Strange.

I mispronounce words. A lot. Or enough that it becomes noticeable. It could be that my tongue just gets in the way and it sounds wrong. At any rate, I have noticed my whole life I don’t say or see things the same way others do.

I don’t fit in.

It could be I am too sensitive.

I am like a square peg in a round hole. My clothes, my style, the things I find interesting or pretty aren’t in tune with the rest of the world. I often stare in amazement at the way a whole group of society can have the same taste in clothes and make them look good. I could be shown a whole rack of clothes and still not pick the thing that I “should.” I have a shoe collection that I shouldn’t have all because I am in constant pursuit of the right shoe. I think I should scrap them all except for my boots, my vans, and a good pair of flats or flip flops.

It could be I am too sensitive.

I have to admit I have felt out of sorts this past year. Like I don’t fit in my own skin. I can’t seem to figure it out, but everything feels off. My to do lists gets longer and my have to’s seem to grow along with my prayer list. I worry too much about the future. I am also a creature of habit and my oldest child brain likes a certain order to things.


It could be I am too sensitive.

Everything feels heavy. I had a week of complete darkness. I hate it. I hate being in that frame of mind that I can’t get out no matter how much sunshine or getting up every morning to burn it off. I just wanted to sleep. I like to blame it on hormones. I think this was more and I hate to say that out loud. It was heavy. Mostly coming out of a lot of weirdness and worry. A lot of shouldering more than I should and just kept pushing forward. I can’t help it. I just push on. I know if I just keep moving forward I can shake it.

It could be I am too sensitive.

This week is better. I am eating better and moving around more. I still feel the weight of the world on me and I am worried about far too many things that aren’t in my control, like the grass growing or calves gaining weight or rain. I can either pray or worry but I can’t do both. That’s something I need to remember and most of what is so heavy isn’t as bad as I think or it is.

Maybe it’s the weight of feeling I should feel or act more like an adult. The weight of that will make a person crazy.

It could be I am too sensitive. It could be I need to shake off the opinions of others and that includes everything I tend to think about myself. It’s okay I am little off balance. I don’t always say the right word right and I don’t always follow a crowd. I don’t have a sense of direction anyway and the music was a little too loud for me to hear anyway. It could be that 17 year old me would be really disappointed in the lack of confidence wrapped up in attitude I lost some where along the way. I just need an open road and wide open windows on a dream car.
It’s sitting in my drive way. It’s on my adult to do list. It really belongs on my 17 year old to do list. If I think about it……

I could be I am too sensitive.

Dishonest.

I’m a little disappointed in myself.

I would like to think I am a pretty smart person, but than I look back on the stupid things I’ve done and I realize I need to follow my own advice. Especially when a number of people around me take the time to say something to me.

The last year has been trying. I have felt like I am in a row boat going up stream that keep filling up with water. Health issues aside, there is something about dealing with someone else and their issues that you never quite expect.
I am a people-pleaser and I have a “I’ll save you complex.” I thought I had learn some things along my journey to 48 but it turns out I need to learn a few more. Or more to the point, stop saving everyone’s feeling at the expense of mine. I know it’s hard to believe, but I don’t always speak my mind as much as I should.

I have a wonderful, silly dog named Grace. She makes me smile just thinking about her because she is generally just a happy beautiful soul. I really don’t deserve her, but she has taught me so much. For instance, Grace barks at everyone. I mean friend or foe, Grace will charge at you barking. No amount of yelling her name or telling her to stop will work. She doesn’t hear me, she is just running to the person or animal that she sees. Once she gets there, she stops barking and is so friendly. She also doesn’t mind very well. She does what she wants. She’s 9 years old. She stopped giving a f*ck. She is also too nice and too considerate of other animals. She will let another dog or cat run over her until she finally has had enough. I guess in a way she is my dog after all.

We all have our breaking points.

Mine comes from doing too much for others or letting them guilt me until I give in. At that point it is their disrespect for my opinion or boundaries; not me. I can only yell so loud in a crowded room before I realize no one is listening. Much like Grace, no one takes my barking seriously.
So I stop. I stop helping. I stop suggesting and I stop worrying. I just stop. It’s my coping mechanism. I realize I need to trust my instinct and put my needs and values first. No one else is going to take off their oxygen mask to save me. It’s my job to save myself.

When this happens others will take notice and ask what is wrong. After all, I have been so much for so many that they find comfort in the fact that I will just continue to be there and to bend for as long as needed. As long as they need. There is nothing wrong. I am putting my oxygen mask on. First.

I can only love or give advice or hold your hand before I am all done. I was in therapy awhile back and the one thing that keeps coming back to me is he said, “you are trying to make sense out of a nonsense situation. Trust yourself. You have the right instincts.” I have forgotten that every once and again, so I think I need to put up my wall so I can read it every day. Pep talks are needed when you get so far in the hole, you forget yourself.

I am reclaiming myself. We all have periods of doubt and low self esteem. It’s normal human nature. What is also a normal human nature is to remember all that I am and all that I can be. It’s okay for me to take care of me first and demand others around me start to listen to me.

I shouldn’t have to yell.

Care.

Winter blues have officially settled into our household. February is always rough for many reasons, but when you love someone with PTSD it can be hard for reasons they don’t want to talk about until it becomes too much.

I am not one that gets bogged down by feelings. I get overwhelmed, perhaps, but never dragged down by them. When I am under extreme amounts of stress I tend to lose my absolute shit. I haven’t done that in awhile, and the last time I did that I got through it with the help of amazing friends, family support, a therapist and anti-depressants. That was not a fun time in my life. I was way too much and way too overwhelmed. I did get through it.

Tools helped a lot. Talking to someone helped me just work through the situation and some times that’s all you need. A safe place to sit and just work it through. More often then not the solutions lies within us, we just have to trust ourselves enough to believe in it.

The problem is when you watch someone you love look like they are under water and trying to get to the top, it’s hard. It’s emotional and trying to remember what worked for me is not necessarily going to work for them. I am very much a life coach positive affirmations, listen to a podcast, and research based. I also know the only way through it is forward. That’s it. Move your brain forward. Again, that might not work for everyone.

What I found that works for me for every day crazy brain is working out. I will shout it from the roof top and I will tell anyone and everyone. On repeat. Go move your body. Every single freaking day. Find a work out or routine you love and just do it. Do it on days you don’t wanna. Do it on days when you feel like you are moving through sand. Just do it. You will find it absolutely changes the way you feel, think and perform through out the day.

I am made fun of by my family for this very reason. My daughter and my man both will look at me when I’m having a bad day or frustrated with life and ask me if I have worked out. If I say no, they will tell me to go do it. My frustration comes out and I get upset over little things. I know it’s time to go move my brain forward.

I fully understand now why my dad will tell me to get outside. It doesn’t matter if I have a headache or cranky, his answer is always the same. Go outside. Some times that means chores or a walk around the block. And don’t you dare tell yourself you can’t. You can. You absolutely can. Your brain likes to lie to you about all sorts of things, and the one thing you can’t do is believe every thing your monkey brain tells you.

So while we spend some time sorting out the PTSD and depression, I will get out my sun lamp that’s suppose to help beat the blues, supplements, repeat affirmations, and make us go for walks. Slogging through the sand and repeating that this season too shall pass. And being someone caring for someone with PTSD is hard. It’s emotionally draining. So it’s important to remember that I can’t fix everything and that I need to take care of me too.

I dropped my phone last night and the screen shattered. I started crying. It wasn’t over the phone. It was over the lack of sleep and the emotional toll the weeks have been on me. I feel selfish for feeling happy or feeling the need for my alone time to work out. I have to remember it’s not selfish. It’s self-care.

Spring will be here before we know it.

https://www.ljgcandles.com/liamslight/ptsd-awareness-month-it-isnt-just-from-combat\

Stuck.

My daughter was stuck. I had put her on the plane to go see her dad, like we do every Christmas Break for the past 6 years. This year was different. This was second time she would make the flight by herself. No flight attendant to make sure she was at her correct gate or to make sure she made the next connection. So she was delayed leaving and got stuck at her next airport because she missed the connection.

Stuck.

That’s what I called it. I was told that wasn’t the right word because she was leaving on the next available flight. 10 PM. She had to spend the after noon hanging out in an airport. It isn’t fun for any of us; but I was concerned because that was my baby who had to go to the help desk and figure this all out by herself. I mean her dad guided through it all; but it still is very worrisome for her mama.

It really sucks when things don’t go according to plan. I am always annoyed and have slight moments of panic attacks. I don’t handle change of direction with the most graceful of spirits. I am admittedly high strung. I like a schedule and I like when people keep their word.

I have been stuck lately. It must be the winter blues. I am not sure what else to call it. I have been doing my morning routine thing: Wake, energize, and work out. It’s something else. I am trying to put my finger on it. I think it comes down to feeling stuck. There’s talk of forward motion but no action behind it. I can write out my goals, talk about my dreams; but without any action I too am just stuck.

My daughter eventually made her way off to see her dad and had the best time on her vacation. She is self reflective that when she tells you the story; she will also tell you how she didn’t take in all the information because she was panicking about being stuck. I think she did great and I was so proud of her being in that situation and handling it. She had to handle it on the way back home as well. She was tired and frustrated; but she made it through.

I know I will make it through this moment in time where I feel stuck. I always feel stuck in winter. I want to hide out in my sweats, not shower and just cover up in a blanket. Or I feel like there’s no better time to get all the indoor projects done because I am stuck inside. It’s the motivation I lack. I just have to remind myself that things don’t always go as planned, and I will never have motivation to do anything if I am waiting for that to strike. I have to create it with action of just starting.

Nothing lasts forever. Not being able to fly when you wanted to or get there when you planned, but you will still get there. Some days you sleep in when you had planned to work out; that’s called self care and rescheduling. When you feel stuck in life a little grace and a little self care goes a long way ; along with doing. Action always makes our brain feel better.

Nothing last forever. Not even Winter.

Merry.

Man, December is hard. It’s never been my favorite month as an adult. I am sure as a kid I had different feelings. Snow, sledding, presents.

I think it started when my Grandpa decided he had a good run and decided to go to that big pasture in the sky with his dog Lady. I still miss him so much it makes my eyes sting and my feelings run down my face. And then Betty had to join him to make sure he knew where he was going and they loaded up the ol’ RV and drove down the road.
Then my ex-father in law fought cancer and decided it was all his body could take; so he stuck one more feather in his hat and whistled his dogs and they took him home. I miss his phone calls around bull riding and NFR time. He would always call to tell me it was on and hang up. He loved those Brazilian Bull riders. I think it would have fun to take him Vegas one time for the NFR.

Those are just three people I miss most in December. So, putting up a tree and wrapping things up is a hard task when I would rather just skip it all. Adulting. But I know it’s not all about me and I have to remember this is not the way anyone who has passed on would want us to live. Life is too short to walk around in a pity party. Those aren’t my favorite parties anyway.

So I create those routines around December that make me remember that it’s about love. I make cookies, I put on Hallmark channel (Because what’s better then watching small town happily ever after every time?), decorate a tree, and watch my favorite Christmas movies. I make everyone in my little family suffer through my sappy moments and sit down with me to watch the movies.

This year I choose to live in love. I choose to look at the snow flying as a good thing. I pray that we have moisture stick and this spring we see grass perk up and grow. I choose to see the cold as a good thing because it teaches me to appreciate those first warm Spring days. I will choose to live in love. It’s easier to see the Angels in my life when I actively look for them. If anything loss has taught me that life is short and to keep your eye on the love. It’s every where. Some days you have to look a little harder and squint a bit; but it’s there.

December is lonely but it doesn’t need to be. Lead with love and get out of your own way. Family is what you make it and someone may need a little more love this month. Just live a little more like a 6 year old. Full of excitement, writing letters to Santa, and sledding until your cheeks are rosy and your smile has gotten too big for your face. You are always welcome at our house.

48.

Another trip around the sun. I started my morning with my work out and breakfast made by my favorite guy and personal chef (California style Eggs Benedict). Tonight I will have dinner with my family. It’s my favorite tradition along with my dad calling me and singing happy birthday to me (He will do it for everyone, so if you want on the list let me know.). I will also have my German Chocolate cake. It’s a tradition and it’s my favorite thing. I only get it on my birthday and I enjoy every bite.

I am having a hard time with this one. I can’t really put my finger on what has me in the dumpster about this aging thing. I am grateful and thankful, don’t get me wrong; but I also have a sense that I have let myself down. The only person I am comparing myself is too is the person I was last year.

The goals I set for myself always seem lofty and this year I didn’t dig into any. I have set the goals of writing daily and I putting out this little blog. I have been doing this for two years so I think my goal of writing was achieved.

I am also so hard myself on where I think or what I think my body should look like. I have come to terms with this. I like food. That’s it. That’s the whole glorious problem. After my youth spent not eating healthy enough and getting by with a Rees’ Peanut Butter cup and Dr. Pepper, I have decided to treat myself better. That is probably not an excuse, but it seems to work out when I balance pasta with spinach. My goal for the next year should be portion control, because at this point I am just working out to maintain. Not to lose or gain.

Working out is my habit. I have to frame my mind around that because when I don’t get up and move my body; well, anxiety and depression seep into my day. Every thing becomes harder and throat punching people becomes more tempting. I do it from the comfort of my living room. That’s the best part of my day and my alone time. I understand how important it is for my body but not to the point where I stress it completely out and throw my lower back out: Which I did recently. Nothing will make you more thankful for you health than an injury or sickness. It’s still important to me to have that routine. It makes me feel better about life.

Here’s to 48. I am learning to be braver as I go. I am learning to say no with more conviction. Oddly enough I decided this would be the year of yes. Yes to more adventure. Saying yes to things that excite me and push me to get out of my comfort zone. Mostly to learn to let go of things I cannot control and living in the moment.

I will work on being a kinder human being with less judgement; but some of you make it really hard. I’ll pray for you. And me.

I will work on stopping my mouth from saying things before my brain thinks it through; but I like to be just as surprised as you are about what just came out. I like to believe I have the spirit working in me and sometimes the message needs to come out. You may not like it but it doesn’t mean I don’t mean it from a good place. Most of time.

I have learned that mean girls are every where. They will continue to show up in my life as lessons. Lessons on standing up for myself and letting that shit go. Lessons in throwing mud in their eye because some people just don’t know when to stop until you do. I tell my daughter almost every day as she leaves for school, “Be kind, but take no shit.” I think that’s the only lesson I need to keep carrying forward with me.

Cheers to another trip around the sun. Laugh more and loud. It’s contagious. Be yourself and speak your truth. You will find your tribe and you will let go of those not meant to be in your tribe. Keep growing and challenging yourself to be better than you were yesterday. Say yes to adventure, whatever that looks like for you. If we cross paths, which I hope we continue to do, I have a high five for you followed by a hell yes. We all need a pep talk and nothing is more grounding than a high five.

Oh and eat the damn cake.

Work.

I have been thinking a lot about work lately. Mostly because that’s my hobby. I work. I try to write on the side, but let’s face it; I have been working. My brain suffers from decision fatigue and often my passion is put aside because of , well, work.

My former employer use to say to me, “If you want something done, ask a busy person.” Our experience was that a busy person didn’t have time to make excuses. They needed to get the task in front of them done because they were twenty more behind them piling up. There is no procrastination or fear from a busy person. It just needs to be done, so it gets done.


Who else is going to do it?

Aha. There’s the rub right? Could it be as simple as slowing down and letting go? Or letting someone else take over the project? To relinquish that control to someone else who may not do it to our way, but will get it handles all the same. Are we really that busy or are we unwilling to give up control?

Questions to ponder.

For me personally, I am often unwilling to give up that illusion of control or be patient enough to wait for someone else to do it. I am often pissed off because of it. I don’t understand why they just can’t get it done. I am busy and I also don’t have time to wait for it to get done. I have other hats to put on so this task needs to be taken off my plate.
I get pissed at the most mundane tasks at home. The dishes piling up along the counter when all that needs to happen is the dishwasher needs to be emptied. Small, unimportant task, but it needs to be done. If I ask it may happen or it may take too long. At that point I just do it. I think my sister once told me it takes under three minutes to unload and load a dishwasher. Three minutes. I think I have three minutes I can get it done and move on.

The problem with being the person who will just do it means no one else will step up and do it. They will happily point the finger and blame you when it doesn’t work or turn out, and claim amnesia about being asked; but still won’t do it.

My boyfriend and I own a restaurant. I don’t like to say I own it because I don’t do anything with it. It’s not my passion; it’s his. He loves to cook and he loves people. It’s his passion and food is his love language. The only thing I contribute to it is my ability to have an amazing resting bitch face and a pep talk when needed. I have no experience in the food world, except I know customer service. I have realized through this business that having the ability to be customer service oriented is a super power. I have also realized that laziness is a real thing. The amount of insane bullshit excuses he gets from his employees is unreal; even my sixteen year old daughter realizes she has more common sense than these twenty-something year old boys. (No I won’t call them men yet because their ability to scream “why me” is beyond me.) They are quick to tell him how unfair he is being or that he doesn’t do enough but are also quick to shout “I quit” when confronted with lack of respect and laziness. I think my kid summed it best when she said, “So they want the paycheck without the accountability.” Wise words coming from a sixteen year old.

I keep saying I need to be trained and start working in the business because I know my ability to work. I know I can do it. How ‘busy’ do I want to really be? And at what point do I have to say, “Not my circus, not my monkeys.” (Also I have been told I am scarier than Halloween.) I don’t think I am scary. Besides everybody, it’s pizza. It’s the easiest job you’ll ever have; but it’s not. Because food needs to taste good for repeat business and customer service is an art. Personal accountability has to play a part. The employees can’t always screw around or text their boss and whine about how hard it is. It’s a fine line and it’s exhausting.

My dad is busy. Full time busy. I am not sure what all he does in his day besides worry about cows and hay and check on everyone else or offer to help. He is busy. He is also a full time control freak. He would rather just do it himself than have one of us do it or god forbid ask. He can’t help himself. He’s busy and it needs to be taken off his list. He often ends our offer of help with a question, “Are you sure?” It’s not that he doesn’t think we can do it, well a maybe a little of that, but more of will you get it done. My sister is the same way. She is a “here I will do it” So imagine working with these two control freaks full time? I have learned not say a word and just do whatever it is they finally decided and agreed.
An example of how big of a control freak my dad is he even will tell me how to back up the side by side to pick up a calf. I didn’t do it right by the way, but it still was done. He’s busy.

I guess I will end this by saying it’s great to be that busy person. We need you to be. We want those people who are always on the go; but every once in awhile we also probably need to take step back and let someone else be busy. It will still get done. I promise.

Dream.

I woke up from a bad dream. I starred at the ceiling and tried to recall all the missing pieces before the fluttered away into the atmosphere.
It started with a very large, tall man grabbing the back of my hair and pulling backwards down a hallway. He then turned me to face forward and held a knife to my back.

As you can see I don’t have fun dreams. I have never had ‘sweet’ dreams. I have always had what I would call survival dreams. In every dream I can recall from a teenager on my dreams always involved me in a dangerous or precarious situation. Almost every one involve a ‘bad’ guy with a gun or knife. They used to wake me up in a start. Heart racing and scared out of my mind. Until I started digging into how I could change the story line in the middle of the dream. Lucid dreaming helped me to overcome the scariness of the dream and figure out what I should be doing to save myself.

So in my current dream; I am not sure the sequence of events, but I called for help and we flipped this large man on to his back. The knife went to floor. And he got smaller. He wasn’t large and scary any more. He was now a boy of maybe 9 or 10 years old. We were now standing outside in the rain with my hand at the back of his neck to keep him from getting away. He began crying and saying he didn’t want to go with the man. A vehicle pulled up and a tall man got out and took the boy and put him in the vehicle. He told me thank you for calling him and that they would take care of it. As they drove away, my friend asked why he was crying. He did the damage. I said that we all have our demons and everyone is afraid of something.

Lucid dreams.

I tend to self reflect a lot. I read and listen to podcasts on self development. I’ve probably mentioned this before. It depends on my mood and what I need to learn. There are some days where I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to hear it. Those are the days that I walk away feeling better and I have that a-ha revelation. I am my own worst critic. I am harder on myself, but I am also confident. Not in all things. Mostly in owning my feelings. I will own how that made me feel and I will also express regret over my ego over ride.

It happens. I am human after all. I didn’t claim to be perfect; just confident.

Lucid dreams.

Learning to override a bad thought, a bad or bad words said to me took some time. It’s a process. I am much better at it now. I have learned not to take everything said to me seriously or personally. I can usually work through it and re-group in less time it takes me to drink a cup of coffee; or some things I am still working on getting over and letting go. Hurt feelings. People talking shit. Again, I just remind myself that everyone has their shit they are still working through and some people work through it by hurting others. Doesn’t make it less painful. It just means I can put them in aside and realize it isn’t all about me. They have work they don’t want to do.

We all have work we don’t want to do. I suppose that’s why it’s called work.

This is not an excuse to be an asshole. I have been told on a number of occasions that I am in fact being a bit of an asshole. *Shrugs* Some days I am. I’ll own that all day long. It’s not okay. It’s not an excuse. Some days the situation calls for me to be asshole. Then again….maybe I have some work to do.

Lucid dreams.

Fleeting.

Feelings are fleeting. They last for only a minute. At most.

I’m admittedly am a highly emotional human. I feel life and enjoy most of every thing life has to offer.

I am optimistic. I like to laugh and I don’t take myself too seriously.

I use to. I use to take myself so seriously that I got in my own way. I was afraid to succeed and I was afraid to try.
It was easier not to take on the new experience because I was afraid.

A fleeting feeling such as fear had me stopping from living.
Oh I had a good time. But it could have been better. If only I let go a little more and said yes to more of life.

Yes to adventure. Yes to becoming the dreamer I am. If I fully embraced how I was meant to stand out; I wouldn’t have worried so much what others thought. I wouldn’t have been upset of about the fact that I don’t.

My feelings about myself began to change when I learned to let go. I let go of the feelings of trying to fit in. I started living life on my feelings of where I fit in.
It started with something as simple as planning my own birthday celebration.
I love celebrating those huge moments of existing on this mud ball we call home. I had these big ideas about how a birthday should be spent. The problem was that no one else agreed.
Isn’t that something ?!
The night I had to buy my own Chinese food and celebrate with a pathetic vanilla cake made for one. Well, I had an epiphany.
The sad, pathetic feeling I felt that day was no longer going to be how I moved forward.

Feeling like I didn’t exist was no longer an option. I now celebrate my years on the planet on my terms. I decide what I will or won’t do. I also buy myself a gift. Who knows me better than me?!
I usually settle for a pair of boots though. A girl could always use more boots, some years I have been lucky and treated myself (& invited others) to live concerts.
I think I saw Keith Urban 3 years in a row. I’d like to think he knew it was my birthday.

Feeling are so fleeting. We can convince ourselves of anything, so why not the very best things. The mind is smart and it will try to get away with talking yourself into a bad day. I don’t fall for that line of bullshit. I remind myself that I am amazing and a bad ass chick; and there is one thing I am sure of it’s my ability to have a better day.

It’s also too easy to fall into someone else’s waves of feelings, good or bad; just be watch out for rip tides waiting to pull you out.
Learn to wear a life preserver and paddle parallel to the shore. You’ll come out of that too.

All feelings fade. Hold on to the good ones and let go of those not serving you. Easier said then done some days; I know. I recommend a walk and a pep talk. Or a good podcast because some days even I don’t believe everything I tell me.

A good therapist and self reflection is a good call too.

Just be kind to yourself on days you need it most.

What.

What did you dream of becoming when you grew up? If you ask my mom, she would tell you weather girl. Since I have no sense of direction and really bad with numbers; that was out. But the one thing I always wanted to be was a writer. I have always had stories in my head. Telling myself a story is the way to calm myself down or get my brain to unwind itself. I can start in the middle or at the beginning of my story. It’s the quickest way I know how to relax. I have three or four stories actually written down on paper.

I have one problem.


Some would call it procrastination. It’s not. I am not putting it off as much as I am trying to get it right.

I get to the middle and I stop. The middle is the boring part of the story. It’s where you have to link the beginning to the end. Sounds simple but did you read the Hobbit? Cause that middle part will put you asleep and make you put the book down before you ever get to the exciting parts.

Perfectionism also had led to me think: What will they think? I am slowly getting over that by writing here. This blog gave me an outlet to get all those thoughts out and down on paper. I send it out into the universe.

I am prone to this ideal in other areas of my life. I like to be organized, but to get me there requires forethought and time. Both of which I am beginning to think has a lot more to do my “undiagnosed/self diagnosed” ADD/Dycalculia.

I get lost easily. If I don’t have directions or have been to a place many times before; I will get lost. I cannot take an alternate route, don’t ask me. I have no idea how to find the road I was once on or need. I cannot tell you how many times this happened to me driving home from Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara to my house in San Jose. It was maybe a 10 mile drive going the back streets at most; but when a game or concert ended my normal routine was thrown off. The side street I normally took was cut off because it went through a neighborhood, so they re-routed us. This threw me off every single time and this is route I took regularly in all hours of the day! It was so frustrating to me to be so turned around. Every instinct I had was not the right one. I had to rely on my phone map to get me to where I wanted to go. All because I was re-routed.

So when it comes to house hold chores my day can spiral easily. I can start out doing laundry but on the way to do that; I realize the floor needs mopped and the bathroom needs cleaned. So instead of continuing on to point A with the laundry, I am now dropping it and filling a bucket to mop and recalling the bathroom needs cleaned. I will grab cleaning supplies to go clean the bathroom; and that’s when I will hear water. Do you see where this is going? It is a never ending circle of me half ass cleaning my house. I will leave the water running to fill up the dog self water feeder and I always, always, always forget that is filling up because; you guessed it, I have started something else while I waited.

I have little tricks I use. I purge my brain of all the chores I need to get done so I have a check list. I have to write it out on paper and see it, otherwise it just gets forgotten in my phone of notes. I set a timer for ten to fifteen minutes per chore. I have to stay on that task until the timer goes off and sometimes I go over; ADD Brain kicks in and now I am obsessed. This is where a timer helps me out. It tells me to finish it up and move on to the next item.

And whatever you do; don’t interrupt me. I will just put whatever I am doing down and say, ” okay let’s go do that.” I have had someone say to me more than once, “no let’s finish this first.” Because it doesn’t occur to me to just finish project one.

It’s all very frustrating to me. The getting lost. The not being able to do numbers in my head or tell how long something will take.

But writing. There isn’t any of that. It is just taking my brain on a long ride of imagination. Writing is letting it go and letting the story lead while I go along for the ride. It’s cathartic. It allows space for back tracking and edits. I can write a short story or I can keep developing the story. There is no timer. I don’t feel lost or feel like it should be easier. I just know my brain is better at the writing part.

Organizing, directions, and being able to keep score in a game I will leave to others more suited for that kind of thing.

So if you come to visit and notice my lap top open, music on and water running in the sink; I am probably cleaning the shower while forgetting to add clothes to a filling washing machine.

It’s who I am.

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